By Grand Central Station I Sat Down and Wept

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By Grand Central Station I Sat Down and Wept

By Grand Central Station I Sat Down and Wept

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The first novella is so perfect that the second one feels unnecessary. It's sort of the sequel, the and then this stuff happened, but it feels unwanted in the book. The first novella had everything and I thought this will be awesome, it will be more of the greatness. But it's not as good. It's not that "The Assumption of Rogues & Rascals" is bad, it's quite good actually, but it's not of the same caliber as the first piece. a b Norton, Ingrid (October 1, 2010). "A Year with Short Novels: Elizabeth Smart, Queen of Sheba". Open Letters Monthly.

Y pese a tanto sufrimiento, Smart expone claramente su preferencia por esta destructora cara del amor si la alternativa es la mera indiferencia. Pues no querría yo sentir una pasión tan desgarradora, ni que la sintieran por mí, no querría ser yo, no soy, esta yonqui del sentimiento que rehúsa cualquier método de desintoxicación y capaz de decir: I am shot with wounds which have eyes that see a world of sorrow, always to be, panoramic and unhealable, and mouths that hang unspeakable in the sky of blood.See a woman who is part of an unending love triangle, feel the music of her "love language" through this prose poem, follow the staccato of her thoughts, know that this is about love and its melancholy. Unrequited love? No. Unappreciated love, I would say. Love that is not true. But who I am to judge the confounding love the author shares with her married, unavailable, and narcissistic lover?Chamber pop duo, Heavy Bell (made up of Matt Peters and Tom Keenan) released an album titled By Grand Central Station (2018), which they called "a paean to the novel: a song of praise and triumph". [6] Excerpts from the novel, and other of the author's writings, feature in Elizabeth Smart: On The Side of the Angels (1991), an hour-long documentary of the writer, written and directed by Maya Gallus.

oh, yeah?? is that what shame does?? it copulates with houseflies, does it?? gosh, i hope the maggot gets shame's eyes...i have no patience for this sort of thing. Me bastó leer el título para visualizar toda una historia. Quizá sea el poder evocador de las estaciones de tren, o la solemnidad de la referencia bíblica, el caso es que ahí estaba esa mujer, sentada en un banco tras despedir a alguien, o después de esperar largamente a quien nunca llegó, dejando correr lágrimas contenidas durante tanto tiempo. Más que imaginar esa historia, la vi. Porque eso es En Grand Central Station me senté y lloré, situado a medio camino entre la poesía y la novela; imágenes de una intensidad y una belleza fuera de lo común. The first piece in this book is an autobiographical-ish story of the authors love for the poet George Barker. She totally falls in love with him before even meeting him and sets him up to move from England to America and they fall in love and they have a bunch of kids together. There only hitch in this storybook romance is that George Barker is married to another woman, whom he stays married too. I don't know what his wife knew, what the arrangements were, but this wasn't a Henry & June kind of arrangement. This was a woman totally in love with this poet and basically giving her life to him and only getting to be the second most important woman in his life. The first piece is about the feelings of being in love with someone attainable but not fully attainable. The second piece is about living without the person, in a foreign country, during a war with a few kids by the person. The second piece takes a while to get going, it's not until after the scene is set of life during and immediately after wartime that Smart finds her stride and really gets going. The voice of the first half of the book was varied. Now it is tired. It is bitter. It doesn't see the world through the eyes of a romantic poem, even a tragic one but sees the ugliness now. In the first part she wouldn't have seen a rose and say: What I really liked about this piece, is the serene melancholy written with precious meticulousness: Though this is a very slim book, I'm still reading it. Smart's style is so dense that it almost requires a mental shift to get into her prose style, which is immersive and almost like an altered state. When I'm finally done, I might give it more stars, but at first, the style really turned me off. It felt overwrought; I can see the comparasin to Anais Nin, another sensual and immersive stylist. Sometimes it works and sometimes it just feels suffocating that you can't understand how someone could be that deep into their own thoughts and senses; it begins to feel narcissistic and like I said, suffocating.I can’t take it, so I lie on the hotel bed dissolving into chemicals whose adventure will pursue time to her extinguishment, without the slightest influence from these few years when I held them together in human passion.” O my dear, O my dear, drink a little milk, lie down and rest a little. I will comfort you. I can carry love like Saint Christopher. It is heavy, but I can carry it. It's the stones of suspicion I stumble on. Did I say suspicion? No. But with or without us, the Day itself must return, we insist, when the Joke at least sits basking in the sun, decorating her idle body with nameless red, once blood.



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