Mostrando entradas con la etiqueta To the Lighthouse. Mostrar todas las entradas
Mostrando entradas con la etiqueta To the Lighthouse. Mostrar todas las entradas

domingo, 19 de julio de 2015

Mother´s Expectations

Mamá también esperaba que el tiempo mejorara para poder llegar hasta el faro y llevar algo de confort para los habitantes del pequeño y solitario lugar. Algunos párrafos más de To the Lighthouse, de la autora inglesa Virginia Woolf

Más abajo para saber: un poquito sobre las Hebrides y los temas que toca la autora

 

sábado, 18 de julio de 2015

The Window

¿Cómo es James? ¿Qué piensa de su padre y de su madre? Así escribe Virginia Woolf los primeros párrafos de To the Lighthouse

"Yes, of course, if it's fine tomorrow," said Mrs. Ramsay. "But you'll have to be up early in the morning," she added.
To her son these words conveyed an extraordinary joy, as if it were settled, the expedition were bound to take place, and the wonder to which he had looked forward, for years and years it seemed, was, after a night's darkness and a day's sail, within touch. Since he belonged, even at the age of six, to that great clan which cannot keep this feeling separate from that, but must let future prospects, with their joys and sorrows, cloud what is actually at hand, since to such people even in earliest childhood any turn in the wheel of sensation has the power to crystallize and transfix the moment upon which its gloom or radiance rests, James Ramsay, sitting on the floor cutting out pictures from the illustrated catalogue of the Army and Navy stores, provided the picture of a refrigerator, as his mother spoke, with heavenly bliss. It was decorated with joy. The wheelbarrow, the lawnmower, the sound of poplar trees, leaves whitening before rain, rooks cawing, brooms knocking, dresses rustling--all these were so coloured and distinguished in his mind that he had already his private code, his secret language, though he appeared the image of absolute and uncompromising severity, with his high forehead and his fierce blue eyes, impeccably candid and pure, frowning slightly at the sight of human frailty, so that his mother, watching him guide his scissors neatly round the refrigerator, imagined him all red and dignified on the Bench or directing a stern and momentous enterprise in some crisis of public affairs.