#joycecaroloates

[serialreaderkalyan]

Getting the Aardvark Book Box is slowly but surely becoming the most awaited action on my monthly calendar- if there’s a gripe I have to pick, it’s just that they allow only 3 picks!! March especially tempted me to pick all their selections 📚📚 So without further ado let’s go into my picks for this month.. Big Swiss by Jen Beagin explores the voyeuristic relationship between Greta and Flavia, albeit the origin of the questionable relation lies in the transcription of Flavian’s confession to Greta’s therapist! Soon to be adapted into an HBO show, this one promises to be a cracker. The Magician’s Daughter by H.G.Parry takes us into a magical place, Hy-Brasil which Biddy inhabits with her guardian, the mercurial magician Rowan. One night, Rowan fails to return from his mysterious travels. To find him, Biddy must venture into the outside world for the first time. But Rowan has powerful enemies—forces who have hoarded the world’s magic and have set their sights on the magician’s many secrets. Biddy may be the key to stopping them. Yet the closer she gets to answers, the more she questions everything she’s ever believed about Rowan, her past, and the nature of magic itself. Magic 🪄 The final pick had to be 48 Clues into the Disappearance of my Sister by the author of Blonde- Joyce Carol Oates- do I say more? Happy Publication Day btw 🥳 The premise of this one gives me The Gone Girl vibes and should be fascinating . What were your picks? 📚 #bookfollow #bookishfollow #booksofig #bookishpost #bookstagram #bookishfriends #bookcommunity #readersofinstagram #aardvarkbookclub #fantasy #thriller ##lgbtq🌈 #happypubday #contemporary #womenshistorymonth #bigswiss #48cluesintothedisappearanceofmysister #themagiciansdaughter #hgparry #joycecaroloates #blonde #romancebooks #jenbeagin https://www.instagram.com/p/CpwBtPZr17P/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[maripilibarreda]

#MariBookClub 📖 “𝐵𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑒” de Joyce Carol Oates. “𝐵𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑒 es una “vida” radicalmente destilada en forma de ficción y, a pesar de su longitud, el principio de apropiación es la sinécdoque. (...) El lector que desee conocer datos biográficos fidedignos de Marilyn Monroe no debería buscarlos en Blonde , que no pretende ser un documento histórico” nos advierte la autora antes de empezar el Prólogo. Es entonces que te relajas y te dejas llevar. Joyce Carol Oates ha construido una Marilyn que fácilmente pudo ser una parte muy real de ella, la mente de Norma Jean que duda constantemente quién es, ¿Norma?¿Marilyn?¿El personaje que está haciendo?¿En qué personaje está ahora? “𝐶𝑜𝑛𝑜𝑐𝑖́ 𝑚𝑖 𝑒𝑥𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑎 𝑦 𝑒𝑙 𝑣𝑎𝑙𝑜𝑟 𝑑𝑒 𝑒𝑠𝑎 𝑒𝑥𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑎 𝑎 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑣𝑒́𝑠 𝑑𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑠 𝑜𝑗𝑜𝑠 𝑑𝑒 𝑜𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑠, 𝑝𝑜𝑟𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑖́𝑎 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑠 𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑛 𝑚𝑎́𝑠 𝑑𝑖𝑔𝑛𝑜𝑠 𝑑𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑓𝑖𝑎𝑛𝑧𝑎 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑠 𝑚𝑖́𝑜𝑠” Adicta a las drogas y el alcohol, a las inyecciones y pastillas (Seconal) que le daba el “Doctor” de La Productora, para despertar, para dormir, desde los 21 años... Obsesionada con dormir, el terror de hacer las cosas mal, el creer que la vida real tiene un final feliz como en las películas, el desdoblarse en cada experiencia traumática... Deliciosamente escrito a pesar de ser una historia dura. Fluye maravillosamente y te mantiene cautiva desde la Norma Jean niña hasta la Marilyn final y te encuentras googleando los hechos reales para identificar personas en cada película. La verdad que pudo haber sido la historia ficticia de cuapersonaje, pues la historia te atrapa y no te da margen a pensar “eso no sucedió”. Si te gustó la película o aún no la ves, tienes que leer este libro. ¡Feliz lectura! ✅❣️ ✒️: @joycecaroloates3146 📇: @penguinlibros @penguinlibrospe @alfaguaraes 📍: @ibero_librerias #Blonde #JoyceCarolOates #Libro #AmoLosLibros #AmoLeer #Lee #LeerSana #Instabook #Ficción #Novela #Fama #Marilyn #MarilynMonroe #NormaJeane #NormaJeaneMonterson https://www.instagram.com/p/Cn73QGvvqxx/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[functionalmoron]

Based on the Charles Schmid csse,which was also the inspiration for the Joyce Carol Oates story "Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been" which was made into the movie SMOOTH TALK. More importantly, the film was an inspiration for the Angry Samoans song

#thetoddkillings #angrysomaons #smoothtalk #joycecaroloates #charlesschmid

[twoflour]

[ID:

Tweet by Joyce Carol Oates (@ JoyceCarolOates)

are there instances of women becoming obsessed with historic events? definitely a male preoccupation with certain phases of history (Civil War, Nazis, Hitler) & reenactments of battles. women may obsess over reading, music & dance, kitties, doggies, clothes, gardening, men.

End ID]

“But I didn’t and still don’t like making a cult of women’s knowledge, preening ourselves on knowing things men don’t know, women’s deep irrational wisdom, women’s instinctive knowledge of Nature, and so on. All that all too often merely reinforces the masculinist idea of women as primitive and inferior – women’s knowledge as elementary, primitive, always down below at the dark roots, while men get to cultivate and own the flowers and crops that come up into the light. But why should women keep talking baby talk while men get to grow up? Why should women feel blindly while men get to think?”

― Ursula K. Le Guin

HUH? HUH? HUH???

[graywyvern]

( via / via / via via @joycecaroloates )

"We misremember the past as a Golden Age of Shared Understanding. In reality it was nothing like that; it was a time of information starvation."

pavements where the fallen traik & pollinate tomorrow's knits avoid me as i would a krait console me in the furtive stink

another tome to crowd the range & one more fathom dimly great as we beneath some blind god's anger lift paper as effectual targe

"We are watching a disaster unfold in real-time." (via @gretathunberg)

"I’m totally available to play the next Doctor Who. Somebody needs to call my agent." --@salmanrushdie

"Oraic-Tolic criticizes the conception that the palindrome's two parts are identical as utopian and questions whether the meaning has to be the same in left-right and right-left direction, from the West and from the East."

[elrincondelescritornovato]

Joyce Carol Oates, novelista, ensayista, poetisa, cuentista, dramaturga, editora y escritora de relatos de primera línea; graduada summa cum laude como Licenciada en Inglés de la Universidad de Siracusa, con maestría de la Universidad de Wisconsin-Madison. A principios de los años 80's comenzó a escribir dentro del género de lo gótico y del terror, declarando ella infuencias procedentes de Kafka y Joyce. Autora del relato "Nocturno", parte de la selección de David G. Hartwell en "The Dark Descent", conocido en latinoamérica como "El Gran Libro del Terror" de Edicones Martínez Roca, S.A.; hoy día aún sigue activa y escribiendo, por lo cual, todos debemos estar agradecidos; he aquí algunos enlaces de interés: https://www.britannica.com/biography/Joyce-Carol-Oates ;https://elpais.com/cultura/2021-01-25/la-literatura-debe-exponer-el-mal-defiende-joyce-carol-oates.html ; https://www.alohacriticon.com/literatura/escritores/joyce-carol-oates/ ; https://www.biografiasyvidas.com/biografia/o/oates.htm ; https://www.theguardian.com/books/2019/jun/01/joyce-carol-oates-my-life-as-a-rat-interview ; https://www.theguardian.com/books/2016/jan/09/joyce-carol-oates-interview-people-think-i-write-quickly-but-i-actually-dont ; https://www.todostuslibros.com/autor/oates-joyce-carol ; https://www.lecturalia.com/autor/746/joyce-carol-oates ; https://www.casadellibro.com/libros-ebooks/joyce-carol-oates/7080 ; https://es.literaturasm.com/autor/joyce-carol-oates#gref ; https://eljardindelsur.wordpress.com/2019/10/17/el-senor-de-las-munecas-y-otros-cuentos-de-terror-joyce-carol-oates/ ; https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joyce_Carol_Oates ; https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joyce_Carol_Oates_bibliography ; . . . . #elrincondelescritornovato #elrincóndelescritornovato #joycecaroloates #escritorasdeterror #escritorasamericanas #escritorasnorteamericanas #cuentacuentos #escritorasderelatos #escritoras #escritores #megustaescribir #escribohistorias #escribomilibro #pasionporlalectura #pasionporleer #pasiónporleer #pasiónporlalectura #pasiónporlaescritura #pasionporescribir #pasiónporescribir #pasionporescribir #escritornovato #escritoraficionado #elescritoraficionado #devenezuela https://www.instagram.com/p/CMR6oISlBAH/?igshid=1wf452kmx9zbx

[quotaholic]

The challenge is to resist circumstances. Any idiot can be happy in a happy place, but moral courage is required to be happy in a hellhole.

Joyce Carol Oates

[rllibrary]

Blonde / Joyce Carol Oates / 2000

Above: the British paperback cover (If you want a copy of this version, search ISBN 9781841153728)

Quotes (As always, for educational/entertainment purposes only! Full disclaimer at rllibrary.tumblr.com )

*

"Look, sweetie. You're making too much of it. You've seen a boy's- a man's- thing, haven't you?"

Elsie was so crude and blunt, Norma Jeane laughed, startled.

She nodded, just barely.

"Well, you know- it gets bigger. You know that."

Again, just barely, Norma Jeane nodded.

"It has to do with them looking at you. It makes them want to- you know- 'make love.'"

(130)

*

Monroe was a natural even as a girl. She had brains but operated from instinct. I believe she could see herself through the camera eye. It was more powerfully, more totally sexual to her than any human connection...Her problem wasn't she was a dumb blonde, it was she wasn't a blonde and she wasn't dumb.

(232)

*

And the director is thinking, This girl is the first actress of the twenty or more he's auditioned for the role (including the black-haired actress he's probably going to cast) who has caught on to the significance of the scene's opening, the first who seems to have given the role any intelligent thought and who has actually read the entire script (or so she claims) and formed some sort of judgment on it. The girl opens her eyes, sits up slowly and blinking, wide-eyed, and says in a whisper, "Oh, I- must have been asleep." Is she acting, or has she actually been asleep? Everyone's uncomfortable. There is something strange here.

(242)

*

She was fascinating to watch. Like a mental patient, maybe. Not acting. No technique. She'd put herself to sleep and out would come this other personality that was her yet also not-her.

People like that, you can see why they're drawn to acting. Because the actor, in her role, always knows who she is. All losses are restored.

(243)

*

Where at her audition Norma Jeane had spoken Angela's lines with seeming spontaneity, naively lying on the floor, now on her feet she was paralyzed with fear at the enormity of the risk before her. What if you fail. If you fail. You will fail. Then you must die. If fired from the film she would be obliged to destroy herself, yet she was deeply in love with Cass Chaplin and hoped one day to have his child- "How can I leave him?" And there was her obligation to Gladys in the hospital at Norwalk. "How can I leave her? Mother has no one but me."

(253)

*

"Norma, for Christ's sake. Your director will lead you step by step through your scenes, that's what movies are. Not real acting, like the theater; not where you're on your own. Why work so hard? Turn yourself inside out? You're sweating like a horse. Why does this matter so much?"

The question hovered between them. Why does it matter so much? So much!

Knowing it was absurd, what she could not explain to her lover- Because I don't want to die, I'm in terror of dying. I can't leave you. Because to fail in her acting career was to fail at the life she'd chosen to justify her wrongful birth. And even in her mildly deranged state she understood the illogic of such a statement.

(254)

*

You just can't take your eyes off her. Cass and me, we'd see Niagara a dozen times.... It's because Rose is us. In our souls. She's cruel in ways we are. She's without any morality, like an infant. She's always looking at herself in the mirror just like we'd look if we looked like her. She's stroking herself, she's in love with herself. Like all of us! But it's supposed to be bad... 

(347)

*

It was like only the camera knew how to make love to her the way she needed, and we were voyeurs just hypnotized watching.

(347)

*

About midway in the movie, when Rose is mocking and laughing at her husband for not being able to get it up, Cassie says to me, "This isn't Norma. This is not our little Fishie." And the hell of it was, it wasn't. This Rose was a total stranger. This was nobody we'd laid eyes on before. Out here, people thought "Marilyn Monroe" was just playing herself. Every movie she made, no matter that it was different from the others, they'd find a way to dismiss it- "That broad can't act. She's just playing herself." But she was a born actress. She was a genius, if you believe in genius. Because Norma didn't have a clue who she was, and she had to fill this emptiness in her. Every time she went out, she had to invent her soul. Other people, we're just as empty; maybe in fact everybody's soul is empty, but Norma was the one to know it.

That was Norma Jeane Baker when we knew her. When we were "the Gemini." Before she betrayed us- or maybe we betrayed her. A long time ago, when we were young.

(347-8)

*

So strange! The audience adored Lorelei Lee. They liked Dorothy, too- Jane Russell was wonderfully warm, attractive, sympathetic, and funny- but clearly the audience preferred Lorelei Lee. Why? Such rapt, smiling faces. Marilyn Monroe was a winner, and everyone loves a winner.

Oh the irony was, surely these people all knew: Marilyn didn't exist.

I can't fail. If I fail I must die. This had been Marilyn's secret no one knew.

(429)

*

I was terrified. I wasn't ready. I'd been up most of the night. I kept having to pee! I wasn't taking any drugs, only just aspirin. And an antihistamine tablet Mr. Pearlman's assistant gave me, for a sore throat. I believed the Playwright would take one look at me and speak to Mr. Pearlman and that was it, I'd be out of the cast. Because I never deserved to be there, and I knew it. I seemed to know this beforehand. I seemed to see myself going down those stairs. I held the script, and I tried to read the lines I'd marked in red, and it was like I'd never seen them before. My only clear thought was: If I fail now, it's winter here, freezing. It wouldn't be hard to die, would it?

(497)

*

Pearlman spoke of the Theater as you'd speak of God. Or more than God, for theater was something in which you participated and lived. "Die for it! For your talent! Scour out your guts! Be hard on yourself, you can take it. It's life and death up there on the stage, my friends. And if not life and death, it's nothing." It was what I revered in him. Oh, he could reach right in....

But he exploited you, didn't he? As a woman.

A woman? What do I care about myself as a woman? I never did....I came to New York to learn to act.

Why do you give Pearlman so much credit? I hate it, in interviews, you exaggerate his role in your life. He eats it up, it's great publicity for him.

Oh, but it's true...isn't it?

You just want to deflect attention from yourself. It's what women do. Defer to bullies. You knew how to act, darling, when you came here.

I did? No.

Certainly you did. I hate this, too, the way you misinterpret yourself.

I do? Gee....

You were a damned good actress when you came to New York. He didn't create you.

You created me.

Nobody created you, you were always yourself.

Well, I guess I knew...something. When I did movies. In fact I was reading Stanislavski. And the diary of, of...Nijinski. 

Nijinski.

Nijinski. But I didn't know what I knew. In practice. It was just...what happened when I had to perform. To improvise. Like striking a match....

The hell with that. You were a natural actress from the start.

Oh, hey! Why're you mad, Daddy? I don't get this.

I'm only just saying, darling, you were born with the gift. You have a kind of genius. You don't need theory. Forget Stanislavski! Nijinski! And him.

I never think of him.

Him messing with you...your mind, your talent...like somebody's big thumbs gripping a butterfly, smearing and breaking the wings.

Hey, I'm no butterfly. Feel my muscle? My leg here. I'm a dancer.

Bullshit theory is for somebody like him: can't act, can't write.

Kiss-kiss, Daddy? C'mon.

(503-4)

*

What kind of questions did he ask you?

My...motivation.

Which was?

To...not die.

What?

To not die. To keep on....

I hate it when you talk like that. It tears my heart.

Oh, I won't! I'm sorry.

(505)

*

Pearlman was always saying how surprised he was by you. What you're really like.

But...what'd that be? What I'm really like?

Just yourself.

But that isn't enough, is it?

Of course it is.

No. It never is.

What do you mean?

You're a writer, because being just yourself isn't enough. I need to be an actress, because being just myself isn't enough. Hey, you won't ever tell people, will you?

I would never speak of you, darling. It would be like flaying my own skin.

You would never write about me, either...would you, Daddy?

Of course not!

(505-6)

*

Why don't I remember things better, my mind gets stuck on a role I'm doing, and I...it's like I'm in two places at once? With other people but not...with them. Why I love to act. Even when I'm alone I'm not.

Your gift is so natural, you don't "act." You require no technique. Yes, it's like a match being struck. A sudden flaring flame....

But I like to read, Daddy! I got good grades in school. I like to...think. It's like talking with somebody. In Hollywood, on the set, I'd have to hide my book if I was reading....People thought I was strange.

Your mind can get muddled. You're easily influenced.

Only by people I trust.

(507)

*

It would astonish the Playwright when he came to know the Blond Actress better how, when she didn't wish to be recognized, she rarely was, for "Marilyn Monroe" was but one of her roles and not the one that most engaged her.

(513)

*

"I was thinking, what Chekhov does with Natasha, he surprises you because Natasha turns out so strong and devious. And cruel. And Magda, you know- well, Magda is always so good. She wouldn't be, in real life? I mean, all the time? I mean"- the Playwright could see the Blond Actress shifting into a scene, face animated, eyes narrowed- "if it was me, a cleaning girl- and I used to do work like that, laundry, dishes, scrubbing toilets, when I was in an orphanage and a foster home in Los Angeles- I'd be hurt, I'd be angry, how life was so different for different people. But your Magda...she never changes much. She's good."

"Yes. Magda is good. Was good. The original. It wouldn't have occurred to her to be angry." Was this true? The Playwright spoke curtly, but he had to wonder.

(513-4)

*

There was the Norma who spoke to him and there was the Norma at a short distance from him. The one an object of emotion, the other an object of aesthetic admiration. Which of course is a type of emotion, no less intense.

(586)

*

The Playwright had noticed, as Max Pearlman had pointed out, how women often took warmly to Norma, quite in reverse of expectations. You would anticipate jealousy, envy, dislike; instead, women felt a curious kinship with Norma, or "Marilyn"; could it be, women looked at her and somehow saw themselves? A man might smile at such a misapprehension. A delusion, or a confusion. But what can a man know? If anyone resisted Norma, it was likely to be a certain kind of man; one sexually attracted to her, yet wise enough to know she would rebuff him. What strategies of irony bred out of threatened male pride, the Playwright well knew.

(591)

*

"He doesn't love me. It's some blonde thing in his head he loves. Not me."

(600)

*

"Darling, maybe you should stop feeding those cats," the Playwright suggested.

"Oh, I will! Soon."

"More and more of them will be showing up. You can't feed the entire Maine coast."

"Daddy, I know. You're right."

Yet she continued, through the summer, as he'd known she would. How many scrawny, starving cats showed up each morning to be fed by her, he didn't want to know. Her strange stubbornness. Her powerful will. The man knew himself obliterated by her, in essential things. Only in surface matters was he triumphant.

(605)

*

She knew she did not deserve life as others deserve life & though she had tried, she had failed to justify her life; yet she must continue to try, for her heart was hopeful, she meant to be good!

(625)

*

Monroe wanted to be an artist. She was one of the few I'd ever met who took all that crap seriously. That's what killed her, not the other. She wanted to be acknowledged as a great actress and yet she wanted to be loved like a child and obviously you can't have both.You have to choose which you want the most.Me, I chose neither.

(638)

*

The fairy tale. The Blond Actress would herself come to believe in this fairy tale a man had written for her as a love offering. She would come to believe not just that luminous Roslyn could save the small herd of wild mustangs but that wild mustangs might be saved. These horses, only six remaining of how many hundreds and one of them a foal. A foal galloping anxiously beside its mother. Lassoed and roped by the desperate men, yet they might be saved from death. From the butcher's knife and being ground into dog food. Here is no romance of the West or even of manly ideals and courage but a melancholy "realism" to thrust into an American audience's faces! Roslyn alone would run into the desert in an action blocked out with care by the Blond Actress and her director that would allow her to express, at the top of her lungs, her fury at manly cruelty. (But I don't want close-ups. Not of me screaming.") She would scream at the men Liars! Killers! Why don't you kill yourselves!  She would scream in the emptiness of the Nevada desert until her throat was raw. Until the interior of her sore-pocked mouth throbbed with pain. Until more capillaries burst in her straining eyes. Until her heart pounded close to bursting. I hate you! Why don't you die! She may have been screaming at those men of her life whose faces she retained or she may have been screaming at those men lacking faces, constituting the vast world beyond the perimeters of the crimson velvet backdrop and the blinding-bright photographer's lights. She may have been screaming at H who had eluded her charm. She may have been screaming into a mirror. She'd told Doc Fell she would not need any medication that morning (after even the stupor of the phenobarbital night) and aroused now to pity, horror, rage by the spectacle of the trapped horses she had not needed any drug. She believed she would never again need any drugs. What power! What joy! She would return to Hollywood alone, and she would buy a house, her first house, and she would live alone, and she would do only work she wanted to do; she would be the great actress she had a chance of becoming; she would no longer be trapped by men; she would no longer be cheated of her truest self. The Blond Actress was expressing anger, rage. At last. Except (all observers would claim) it wasn't the simulated expression of anger and rage but genuine passion ripping through the woman's body like an electric current.

"Liars! Killers! I hate you."

(668-9)

*

"You feel genuine emotion, Miss Monroe! That's why you're a brilliant actress. That's why people see in you a magnified image of themselves. Of course they're deluded, but happiness dwells in delusion! Because you live in your soul like a candle that lives in its own burning. You live in our American soul. Don't smile, Miss Monroe. I'm serious, too. I'm saying that you're an intelligent woman, not just a woman of 'feeling'; you're an artist, and like all artists you know that life is just material for your art. Life is what fades, art is what remains. Your emotions, your anguish over your divorce or Mr. Gable's death, whatever-" with an airy impatient gesture taking in all of the world she'd inhabited in thirty-five years or even envisioned: the very memory of the Holocaust evoked out of much-thumbed secondhand books rescued from a used-book store, vessels of Jewish fortitude and suffering, the stale-rancid odors of the California madhouses of her mother's captivity, all the memories of her personal life, as if they were of no more significance to her than a screenplay- "you may as well see your trauma as a newsreel, because others will."

(679)

*

This doctor says there are miracle drugs now

to control the "blues." I said, oh if the

blues go, what about blues music? He asked

is the music worth the agony & I said that

depends upon the music & he said life is more

precious to retain than music, if a person is

depressed her life is endangered & I said

there must be a middle way & I would find that

way.

(683)

*

Mother? What did you want from me I could never give you? How did I fail? I tried so hard. She wondered if, if she'd played piano better for Mr. Pearce and sung better for poor Jess Flynn, her childhood would have turned out differently? Maybe her miserable lack of talent had contributed to Gladys Mortinsen's madness. Maybe something in Gladys had simply snapped.

Still, Gladys had seemed to absolve her of blame. Nobody's fault being born, is it?

(695)

*

Hey I love to act. Truly, acting is my life! Never so happy as when I'm acting, not living.

Oh, what'd I say?  Oh well, you know what I mean.

(Why am I so afraid, then? I will not be afraid.) 

(697)

*

Joyce Carol Oates, Blonde, ISBN 9781841153728

[thedarkplume]

My latest @ebay purchase. Beasts by Joyce Carol Oates #bookstagram #beasts #joycecaroloates #ebay #firstbookbuyof2020 https://www.instagram.com/p/B7KJdZxFl5Htwf2FlcmqCIk8ubNtbfvECSZU7A0/?igshid=kn1e790kkcf9

[ancheoggisidormedomani]

Dico sempre, ai clienti, che la mia ricerca parte sempre dal mio gusto di lettore. Se non fossi un po' fanatico dell'oggetto libro, di certi autori, se non avessi scelto Lettere dopo il liceo sapendo che lo facevo più per me che per un ipotetico lavoro, non sarei qui, circondato da volumi da cui talvolta mi separo a malincuore. Ciò che mi rende felice è che ci siano tanti altri fanatici dei libri e me li immagino sfogliare e leggere frasi che ho tenuto da parte per loro, con la stessa cura di un guardiano di museo che ogni sera fa il giro delle stanze per controllare che i quadri siano al loro posto e magari si sofferma a farsi sorprendere ancora un'altra volta. . . . www.seunanottedinvernounlibro.it #libro #libri #libreriaonline #libreria #book #books #bookstagram #libriusati #librirari #primaedizione #seunanottedinvernounlibro #antonellaanedda #pierpaolopasolini #claricelispector #francofortini #jrrtolkien #tizianosclavi #joycecaroloates #einaudi #mondadori https://www.instagram.com/p/BuoxUIMHzA2/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=10uoe16cim35v

[film-book]

‎

Film Review: BLONDE (2022): Andrew Dominik's Harrowing Film Showcases Ana de Armas at Her Finest https://film-book.com/film-review-blonde-2022-andrew-dominiks-harrowing-film-showcases-ana-de-armas-at-her-finest/?feed_id=101083&_unique_id=632f285724623

[thisliterarylife]

getting ready for lit girl (adaptation) fall 🍂 #bookstagram #bookstagrammer #bookish #bookworm #joycecaroloates #blonde #marilynmonroe #netflix #netflixadaptation #writerlife #writermode #writersofinstagram #academiaaesthetic #darkacademia #typewrtier #vintagevibes #darkacademiaaesthetic #desksetup #deskdecor #fallvibes #blondemovie https://www.instagram.com/p/CiVh6aTuYa9/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[bibliobethblog]

Hello everyone and happy #stacksaturday to you all! Today I’ve managed to do lots of reading which always makes for a happy Beth 😂 Hope your weekends are also cosy and relaxing. Today’s post is inspired on the #redbutunreadstack that I’ve seen on quite a few pages including @what_esther_read Trilobites & Other Stories - Breece D’J Pancake The Dumb House - John Burnside A Concise Chinese-English Dictionary For Lovers - Xiaolu Guo The Fishermen - Chigozie Obioma The Thursday Murder Club - Richard Osman King Of Rabbits-Karla Neblett A Book Of American Martyrs - Joyce Carol Oates I’m about to head into a hot bath 🛁 with some lavender Epsom salts, a lavender candle and my book but I’d love to hear if you’ve read any of these books and whether I should bump any of them up my TBR? Let me know in the comments! Have a lovely weekend everyone! 🤗😘 #bookstagram #scottishbookstagrammer #tbrpilesneverend #redbookstackchallenge #thebookofamericanmartyrs #joycecaroloates #kingofrabbits #karlaneblett #thethursdaymurderclub #richardosman #thefishermen #chigozieobioma #aconcisechineseenglishdictionaryforlovers #xiaoluguo #thedumbhouse #johnburnside #trilobitesandotherstories #breecedjpancake #booksineedmorebooks #booksigottaread https://www.instagram.com/p/CiDk-_0rasZ/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[reflections-in-t]

. . ハリウッドのアイコン マリリン・モンローの生涯を描いた 『Blonde』がいよいよ9月に . 主演のアナ・デ・アルマスの 演技に期待が高まるけれど . Netflix初の 18歳未満観賞禁止という 制限つきなのも話題に . 3番目の夫アーサー・ミラー役の エイドリアン・ブロディの演技も 楽しみだし、架空のマリリンの回想録 として書かれたベストセラー小説が どのように脚色・演出されているかも 興味がつきないところ . ティーザーをみるかぎり、一級の エンターテインメント作品になっている ことは明らかで、ひさびさにパワフルな 一本になりそうな気配 . . ※ストーリーズ記載の 　配信日は不確定です。 . . #BLONDE #アナデアルマス #AnadeArmas #エイドリアンブロディ #AdrienBrody #Netflix #September23or28 #18歳未満鑑賞禁止 #JoyceCarolOates #ジョイスキャロルオーツ #AndrewDominik #アンドリュードミニク #ヴェネチア国際映画祭出品 #底知れぬ愛の闇 #エイドリアンライン監督作 #ベンアフレックと共演 #PrimeVideo配信中 . . https://www.instagram.com/p/CglYx2uPBsv/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[readmeapoem]

Qesh, dhe gjithë bota do të qeshë bashkë me ty. Qaj, dhe do të qash e vetme! Joyce Carol Oates 📷 @lulushja #joycecaroloates #lifequotes #solitude #beingtogether #fallingapart https://www.instagram.com/p/CToxODyoU99/?utm_medium=tumblr

[graywyvern]

( via / via )

"When he now looks back at Limits to Growth, he still sees a degree of naiveté in its hope that new knowledge would lead to transformative action. He now predicts the collapse of civilization, simply because of natural processes that are already under way, out of control no matter what we do." (via Mefi)

"Should Trump get the Republican nomination—and right now he is the frontrunner—the Republican Party will have nominated for the presidency a man a jury found liable for sexual assault and defamation, and against whose followers a judge had to warn a jury to take precautions.

It’s not a great look." --Heather Cox Richardson 5/9/2023

"(When Fearing himself was called in front of HUAC, in 1950, to answer the question of whether he had been a member of the Communist Party, he answered with calculated irony, 'Not yet.')." (via @joycecaroloates)

"the war that is home"

yet a little rest in the end may come when the noise of the day's erased yet a little rest a mere slap on the wrist wisps from the honeycomb yet a little rest in the end may come

Clowns & Goats.