Émotions et envies

Une rue près de chez moi

Le passage suivant, au début de Life & Times of Michael K, m'a fait pleurer à chaudes larmes. Deux fois.

'You don't know where I could get something to eat,' asked K. 'I haven't eaten since yesterday.' 'Man,' said the man, 'why don't you go and get us both a pie,' and passed K a one-rand coin. K went to the bakery and brought back two hot chicken pies. He sat beside his friend on the bench and ate. The pie was so delicious that tears came to his eyes. The man told him of his sister's uncontrollable fits of shaking. K listened to the birds in the trees and tried to remember when he had known such happiness. (Vintage Books, p. 30)

J'ai aussi pleuré en regardant Le hérisson dans le brouillard {ici}, et puis le suspense insoutenable d'un roman de Deon Meyer m'a donné des crampes d'estomac.

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Je n'aime plus le potiron, mais le passage suivant m'a redonné envie d'y goûter.

He lifted the first strip to his mouth. Beneath the crisply charred skin the flesh was soft and juicy. He chewed with tears of joy in his eyes. The best, he thought, the very best pumpkin I have tasted. For the first time since he had arrived in the country he found pleasure in eating. The aftertaste of the first slice left his mouth aching with sensual delight. He moved the grid off the coals and took a second slice. His teeth bit through the crust into the soft hot pulp. Such pumpkin, he thought, such pumpkin I could eat every day of my life and never want anything else. And what perfection it would be with a pinch of salt—with a pinch of salt, and a dab of butter, and a sprinkling of sugar, and a little cinnamon scattered over the top! Eating the third slice, and the fourth and fifth, till half the pumpkin was gone and his belly was full, K wallowed in the recollection of the flavours of salt, butter, sugar, cinnamon, one by one. (idem, p. 114)

Un roman policier israélien qui se passe à Holon, banlieue banale de Tel Aviv, m'a donné une terrible envie de lire la Lettre au père de Kafka. Ce que j'ai fait rapidement, d'ailleurs. À son tour, la Lettre au père m'a donné envie de lire Le monde d'hier de Zweig ainsi que Ma vie, l'autobiographie de Marc Chagall.

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Choses intéressantes :

Navigating the power of attention when it is part of what the cruel seek : brillance et subtilité à propos de la campagne #bringbackourgirls

Translating for Bigots, ou comment traduire pour un public plein de préjugés

The Dangers of a Single Book Cover

The Albertine Workout, un poèmessai à lire absolument.