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مدراتوکانتابیله
مرد جوانی، پیش روی مشتریان یک کافه، معشوق خود را میکشد. یکی از مشتریان زن، تحت تاثیر صحنه قتل، بارها به کافه برمیگردد و در آنجا به مردی از شاهدان صحنه برمیخورد؛ سر صحبت این دو از گفتگو درباره تجربه دیدن قتل باز میشود. کمکم با دیدارهای بیشتر آنها احساس میکنند تعادل زندگیشان از دست میرود.
144 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1958
125 people are currently reading
3702 people want to read
About the author
Marguerite Duras
396 books3,305 followersMarguerite Germaine Marie Donnadieu , known as Marguerite Duras, was a French novelist, playwright, screenwriter, essayist, and experimental filmmaker. Her script for the film Hiroshima mon amour (1959) earned her a nomination for Best Original Screenplay at the Academy Awards.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 591 reviews
April 28, 2025
Théo, cette critique est pour toi, parce que je sais combien ce livre t’habite. J’espère qu’elle saura en capter toute l’intensité et la profondeur.
Imagino Marguerite Duras ouvindo a sonatina de Diabelli.
Sol poente, céu vermelho.
Entre a vigília e a sonolência.
Uma mulher, Anne Desbaresdes; uma criança, seu filho.
Caminham. A criança vai para a aula de piano.
A professora, austera. A criança obstinada, teimosa até rebelde.
A criança mais interessada nos sons da rua e do mar que entram pela janela. Mais apelativos do que o ritmo lento do moderato Cantabile.
Uma tensão entre disciplina, conformidade e liberdade, desafiando as normas sociais.
As complexidades do desejo e da alienação através de Anne Desbaresdes, uma mulher emocionalmente abandonada pelo marido e aprisionada pelas convenções da burguesia. Enquanto educa o filho, Anne reflecte que esse processo é um "parto sem fim", um esforço contínuo de equilibrar o esperado e o inesperado. A mãe quer tantas coisas para a criança, mas não sabe como fazer, nem por onde começar. Pelas aulas de piano que afastarão a criança dos vícios masculinos de autoritarismo ou violência emocional?
Os passeios ao fim do dia, marcados pelo pôr do sol, simbolizam o encerramento de ciclos e uma busca silenciosa por mudança.
Um crime. Uma mulher morre. A mãe também se sente morta e com medo. Não dorme. Bebe vinho. Fala com um desconhecido. Um diálogo de meias palavras. A criança brinca na rua. A criança não quer continuar a estudar piano mas, uma, depois duas escalas em sol maior, elevaram-se por amor da mãe. A mãe diz o quanto gosta dele. Às vezes, pensa que inventou o filho.
O caminho de volta a casa é longo. A mãe chora, e a criança diz que, à noite, as casas ficam longe. A criança engole um raio de sol. Mais tarde, haverá um jantar social . Anne não come, atormentada por outra fome. Pelas vidraças da sala, entra um odor excessivo de flores, à noite.
Com um título que ironicamente contrasta com as emoções intensas da narrativa, Duras apresenta uma obra que convida à reflexão sobre a maternidade, casamento, desejo e resistência, deixando o leitor imerso na procura de um significado.
«Não vale a pena tentar compreender. Há coisas que não se chega a compreender.»
Duras. Duras sendo Duras.
Imagino Marguerite Duras ouvindo a sonatina de Diabelli.
Sol poente, céu vermelho.
Entre a vigília e a sonolência.
Uma mulher, Anne Desbaresdes; uma criança, seu filho.
Caminham. A criança vai para a aula de piano.
A professora, austera. A criança obstinada, teimosa até rebelde.
A criança mais interessada nos sons da rua e do mar que entram pela janela. Mais apelativos do que o ritmo lento do moderato Cantabile.
Uma tensão entre disciplina, conformidade e liberdade, desafiando as normas sociais.
As complexidades do desejo e da alienação através de Anne Desbaresdes, uma mulher emocionalmente abandonada pelo marido e aprisionada pelas convenções da burguesia. Enquanto educa o filho, Anne reflecte que esse processo é um "parto sem fim", um esforço contínuo de equilibrar o esperado e o inesperado. A mãe quer tantas coisas para a criança, mas não sabe como fazer, nem por onde começar. Pelas aulas de piano que afastarão a criança dos vícios masculinos de autoritarismo ou violência emocional?
Os passeios ao fim do dia, marcados pelo pôr do sol, simbolizam o encerramento de ciclos e uma busca silenciosa por mudança.
Um crime. Uma mulher morre. A mãe também se sente morta e com medo. Não dorme. Bebe vinho. Fala com um desconhecido. Um diálogo de meias palavras. A criança brinca na rua. A criança não quer continuar a estudar piano mas, uma, depois duas escalas em sol maior, elevaram-se por amor da mãe. A mãe diz o quanto gosta dele. Às vezes, pensa que inventou o filho.
O caminho de volta a casa é longo. A mãe chora, e a criança diz que, à noite, as casas ficam longe. A criança engole um raio de sol. Mais tarde, haverá um jantar social . Anne não come, atormentada por outra fome. Pelas vidraças da sala, entra um odor excessivo de flores, à noite.
Com um título que ironicamente contrasta com as emoções intensas da narrativa, Duras apresenta uma obra que convida à reflexão sobre a maternidade, casamento, desejo e resistência, deixando o leitor imerso na procura de um significado.
«Não vale a pena tentar compreender. Há coisas que não se chega a compreender.»
Duras. Duras sendo Duras.
June 3, 2025
In Moderato Cantabile, despite their simplicity, each sentence is clear, there is no obscurity, and the means used are strict.
Yet this brevity and even the repetitions are loaded with lightning and lead.
The presence of beings and their exchanges' transience must be amplified intensely. These foreign characters, innocuous at first, are pushed to their limits, magnetized by banality and white hot.
It filled the concise descriptions with images that forced the reader to lean in to listen to the blanks left. There are no filters; the scenes unfold in reality as if played out on the world's platform in this theatre.
There is hope, despair, desolation, and struggle.
The disturbing, elusive Moderato Cantabile will no doubt confuse some. But this atypical object mastered has mad audacity and great originality.
Yet this brevity and even the repetitions are loaded with lightning and lead.
The presence of beings and their exchanges' transience must be amplified intensely. These foreign characters, innocuous at first, are pushed to their limits, magnetized by banality and white hot.
It filled the concise descriptions with images that forced the reader to lean in to listen to the blanks left. There are no filters; the scenes unfold in reality as if played out on the world's platform in this theatre.
There is hope, despair, desolation, and struggle.
The disturbing, elusive Moderato Cantabile will no doubt confuse some. But this atypical object mastered has mad audacity and great originality.
May 24, 2025
Minimalist, symbolic and vague.
“All I know is that he shot her through the heart.”
Piano lessons, dinner parties, returning home from work, sleeping, waking up, eating… what do they have in common?
They are routines, predictabilities and rituals.
What is not a routine?
A heartrending scream and a murder.
The story centers on Anne, a bourgeois mother, who once a week takes her reluctant child to piano lessons, because she supposes that is ‘the right thing to do’.
On one occasion, during the lesson, she hears someone scream . Later she finds out that a woman has been murdered by her lover in the café nearby.
The bored, jaded and unhappy Anne who lives her life 'moderato cantabile', who has her fixed routines and responsibilities, becomes fascinated and obsessed with the un-routine.
She sets to know more about the woman and the man and the reason which led to the murder.
Every day she returns to the café and there, strikes a conversation with a mysterious man.
The wall at the far end of the room was lighted by the setting sun. In the middle their two shadows were fused in black.
As the man and the woman exchange words and by the things said and the things remained unsaid, we are forced to focus on Anne herself; on her life, her disappointments, desires and frustrations.
“All I know is that he shot her through the heart.”
Piano lessons, dinner parties, returning home from work, sleeping, waking up, eating… what do they have in common?
They are routines, predictabilities and rituals.
What is not a routine?
A heartrending scream and a murder.
The story centers on Anne, a bourgeois mother, who once a week takes her reluctant child to piano lessons, because she supposes that is ‘the right thing to do’.
On one occasion, during the lesson, she hears someone scream . Later she finds out that a woman has been murdered by her lover in the café nearby.
The bored, jaded and unhappy Anne who lives her life 'moderato cantabile', who has her fixed routines and responsibilities, becomes fascinated and obsessed with the un-routine.
She sets to know more about the woman and the man and the reason which led to the murder.
Every day she returns to the café and there, strikes a conversation with a mysterious man.
The wall at the far end of the room was lighted by the setting sun. In the middle their two shadows were fused in black.
As the man and the woman exchange words and by the things said and the things remained unsaid, we are forced to focus on Anne herself; on her life, her disappointments, desires and frustrations.
November 25, 2025
Jamais les paroles de Roland Barthes, affirmant que la différence entre l’écriture traditionnelle et celle moderne reste notamment dans la vitesse de lecture, n’ont sonné plus vraies. Moderato cantabile, un mini-roman d’à peu près cent pages, doit être lu lentement, un mot à la fois, et même comme ça on n’est pas sûr d’avoir tout saisi. Et cela n’a aucun rapport avec la construction de la phrase ni avec d'autres contraintes linguistiques. Au contraire, la phrase a la même belle cadence et la même clarté avec lesquelles Marguerite Duras nous a habitués. C’est l’intrigue qui refuse de se déployer, ce sont les personnages qui faillissent se révéler, c’est le narrateur qui perd sa fonction d’intermédiaire entre le monde de la fiction et le lecteur.
Ben oui, c’est d’un « nouveau roman » qu’on parle. Pourtant, lorsque le nouveau roman rencontre Marguerite Duras, c’est sûr qu’il y aura plus que ça. Car le refus de la narration, du personnage et de l’intrigue cachent des possibilités (comme dans les livres interactifs, pour vulgariser un peu) que le lecteur se sent obligé de chercher et de développer.
Et, inévitablement, l’aventure de la lecture devient une chasse aux suppositions, un défi aux interprétations et, bien-sûr, un effort subconscient de transformer le neuf et l’étrange dans le traditionnel et le familier. C’est-à-dire, d’apporter l’écriture dans la zone bien connue de l’identification d’un thème, de la découverte d’une structure, de l’interprétation d’une image.
Allons voir. Un enfant refuse de se rappeler le sens de l’expression "moderato cantabile", à l’exaspération de sa professeure de piano et à la complaisance de sa mère. Une sonatine est interrompue par un cri. Une femme et un homme reconstituent en le rendant personnel un crime passionnel. Un régal célèbre l’effronterie des sens. De quoi s’agit-il, en effet? On a dit – le gris de la vie bourgeoise (brr! - quelle grossièreté), on a dit – l’amour et la mort, on a dit – ne regarde pas le couple, regarde l’enfant, et le repas, et le vin et fais attention à la rencontre et à la mort.
Moi je dis à mon tour qu’il s’agit peut-être de la fausse rassurance d’une vie vécue moderato cantabile jusqu’à ce qu’un fait sensationnel la perturbe, et des gens qui superposent leurs vies sur les tragédies des autres sans vraiment les comprendre, et de l’étouffement des conventions sociales et de l’évasion à la médiocre réalité. Et de la lutte, perdue à l’avance, avec l’éphémère.
Tant de vues différentes sur un si petit roman, mais qui incite le lecteur sans l’aliéner, ni même celui le moins préparé à se livrer aux plaisirs incertains d’une écriture nouvelle. Car (et tel est le cas avec tous les vrais chefs d’œuvre), même dans ces arcanes de lecture, il trouve toujours son chemin à suivre à volonté, afin de l'adapter à son horizon d'attente.
Ben oui, c’est d’un « nouveau roman » qu’on parle. Pourtant, lorsque le nouveau roman rencontre Marguerite Duras, c’est sûr qu’il y aura plus que ça. Car le refus de la narration, du personnage et de l’intrigue cachent des possibilités (comme dans les livres interactifs, pour vulgariser un peu) que le lecteur se sent obligé de chercher et de développer.
Et, inévitablement, l’aventure de la lecture devient une chasse aux suppositions, un défi aux interprétations et, bien-sûr, un effort subconscient de transformer le neuf et l’étrange dans le traditionnel et le familier. C’est-à-dire, d’apporter l’écriture dans la zone bien connue de l’identification d’un thème, de la découverte d’une structure, de l’interprétation d’une image.
Allons voir. Un enfant refuse de se rappeler le sens de l’expression "moderato cantabile", à l’exaspération de sa professeure de piano et à la complaisance de sa mère. Une sonatine est interrompue par un cri. Une femme et un homme reconstituent en le rendant personnel un crime passionnel. Un régal célèbre l’effronterie des sens. De quoi s’agit-il, en effet? On a dit – le gris de la vie bourgeoise (brr! - quelle grossièreté), on a dit – l’amour et la mort, on a dit – ne regarde pas le couple, regarde l’enfant, et le repas, et le vin et fais attention à la rencontre et à la mort.
Moi je dis à mon tour qu’il s’agit peut-être de la fausse rassurance d’une vie vécue moderato cantabile jusqu’à ce qu’un fait sensationnel la perturbe, et des gens qui superposent leurs vies sur les tragédies des autres sans vraiment les comprendre, et de l’étouffement des conventions sociales et de l’évasion à la médiocre réalité. Et de la lutte, perdue à l’avance, avec l’éphémère.
« Le temps passe, dit Chauvin, vous êtes de plus en plus en retard. »
Tant de vues différentes sur un si petit roman, mais qui incite le lecteur sans l’aliéner, ni même celui le moins préparé à se livrer aux plaisirs incertains d’une écriture nouvelle. Car (et tel est le cas avec tous les vrais chefs d’œuvre), même dans ces arcanes de lecture, il trouve toujours son chemin à suivre à volonté, afin de l'adapter à son horizon d'attente.
January 23, 2025
4,5*
Pousou de novo a mão em cima da mesa. Ele seguiu o gesto com os olhos e penosamente compreendeu, levantou a dele, que pesava como chumbo, e pouso-a sobre a dela. As mãos deles estavam tão frias que se tocaram ilusoriamente apenas com essa intenção, para que ficasse feito, com a única intenção de que o ficasse, não de outro modo, já não era possível. As mãos deles ficaram assim, imóveis na sua pose mortuária.
Tal como um outro livro de Marguerite Duras que li há pouco tempo, este podia intitular-se a “A Doença da Morte”, pois também ela está entranhada em “Moderato Cantabile”, tanto pelo crime que faz a protagonista voltar inúmeras vezes ao café onde ele ocorreu, como nos vocábulos e imagens usadas pela autora, desde as magnólias murchas até aos repetidos ocasos.
Atraída por um crime aparentemente passional, Anne entabula conversa com Chavin, que estava presente aquando do incidente e está disposto a informar-se sobre o trágico casal para lhe satisfazer a curiosidade. Há álcool, cansaço e desespero nessa infeliz relação, fazendo-me lembrar “Os Cavalos Também se Abatem”, de Horace McCoy.
- Sangue na boca – disse ela -, e ele continuava a beijá-la, a beijá-la.
Recompôs-se: aquilo que disse era uma suposição sua?
- Eu não disse nada.
O poente estava agora tão baixo que atingia o rosto do homem. O corpo, de pé, ligeiramente apoiado ao balcão, recebia-o desde há instantes.
- Tendo-o visto, não podemos impedir-nos disso, não é verdade, é quase inevitável?
- Eu não disse nada – repetiu o homem. – Mas julgo que ele fez pontaria ao coração como ela lhe pedia.
Tendo este episódio sangrento desencadeado algo dormente nesta solitária mulher de classe alta, insone na sua mansão à saída de uma cidade costeira, centrada no encantador mas rebelde filho e nas suas lições de música, há um jogo de espelhos em que nos apercebemos do silêncio e angústia que caracteriza a vida da própria Anne, que no café, perante o jarro de vinho, se dá conta de uma sede que não consegue apaziguar.
“Moderato Contabile” é um texto compacto mas extremamente rico, escrito no estilo etéreo que tanto me agrada nesta autora.
-Muitas mulheres já viveram nessa mesma casa e ouviam as alfenas à noite em vez do coração. As alfenas estavam lá desde sempre. Essas mulheres morreram todas no seu quarto, por detrás dessa faia que, contrariamente ao que você julga, não cresce mais.
- É tão falso como o que me disse sobre essa mulher morta de bêbeda todas as noites.
(...)
- Despache-se a falar. Invente.
Ela fez um esforço, falou quase alto no café ainda deserto.
- O que seria preciso era habitar uma cidade sem árvores as árvores gritam quando há vento aqui há sempre à excepçãode dois dias do ano no seu lugar está a ver eu iria embora daqui não ficaria aqui todos os pássaros ou quase todos são pássaros do mar que se encontram mortos depois das tempestades (...).
Pousou de novo a mão em cima da mesa. Ele seguiu o gesto com os olhos e penosamente compreendeu, levantou a dele, que pesava como chumbo, e pouso-a sobre a dela. As mãos deles estavam tão frias que se tocaram ilusoriamente apenas com essa intenção, para que ficasse feito, com a única intenção de que o ficasse, não de outro modo, já não era possível. As mãos deles ficaram assim, imóveis na sua pose mortuária.
Tal como um outro livro de Marguerite Duras que li há pouco tempo, este podia intitular-se a “A Doença da Morte”, pois também ela está entranhada em “Moderato Cantabile”, tanto pelo crime que faz a protagonista voltar inúmeras vezes ao café onde ele ocorreu, como nos vocábulos e imagens usadas pela autora, desde as magnólias murchas até aos repetidos ocasos.
Atraída por um crime aparentemente passional, Anne entabula conversa com Chavin, que estava presente aquando do incidente e está disposto a informar-se sobre o trágico casal para lhe satisfazer a curiosidade. Há álcool, cansaço e desespero nessa infeliz relação, fazendo-me lembrar “Os Cavalos Também se Abatem”, de Horace McCoy.
- Sangue na boca – disse ela -, e ele continuava a beijá-la, a beijá-la.
Recompôs-se: aquilo que disse era uma suposição sua?
- Eu não disse nada.
O poente estava agora tão baixo que atingia o rosto do homem. O corpo, de pé, ligeiramente apoiado ao balcão, recebia-o desde há instantes.
- Tendo-o visto, não podemos impedir-nos disso, não é verdade, é quase inevitável?
- Eu não disse nada – repetiu o homem. – Mas julgo que ele fez pontaria ao coração como ela lhe pedia.
Tendo este episódio sangrento desencadeado algo dormente nesta solitária mulher de classe alta, insone na sua mansão à saída de uma cidade costeira, centrada no encantador mas rebelde filho e nas suas lições de música, há um jogo de espelhos em que nos apercebemos do silêncio e angústia que caracteriza a vida da própria Anne, que no café, perante o jarro de vinho, se dá conta de uma sede que não consegue apaziguar.
“Moderato Contabile” é um texto compacto mas extremamente rico, escrito no estilo etéreo que tanto me agrada nesta autora.
-Muitas mulheres já viveram nessa mesma casa e ouviam as alfenas à noite em vez do coração. As alfenas estavam lá desde sempre. Essas mulheres morreram todas no seu quarto, por detrás dessa faia que, contrariamente ao que você julga, não cresce mais.
- É tão falso como o que me disse sobre essa mulher morta de bêbeda todas as noites.
(...)
- Despache-se a falar. Invente.
Ela fez um esforço, falou quase alto no café ainda deserto.
- O que seria preciso era habitar uma cidade sem árvores as árvores gritam quando há vento aqui há sempre à excepçãode dois dias do ano no seu lugar está a ver eu iria embora daqui não ficaria aqui todos os pássaros ou quase todos são pássaros do mar que se encontram mortos depois das tempestades (...).
July 27, 2021
i used to be so smart that i could read french classics that inspired new-wave adaptations...IN FRENCH.
i am no longer smart.
part of a series where i review books i read a long time ago and also yearn for my bygone youth
i am no longer smart.
part of a series where i review books i read a long time ago and also yearn for my bygone youth
October 12, 2017
شاهکاری خلق شده از هیچ! اگر بخوام در یک کلمه این اثر رو توصیف کنم، حتی واژهی اعجابانگیز هم نسبت به این اثر حق مطلب رو ادا نمیکنه. اینکه نویسنده در قالب دیالوگهای روزمره و بیاهمیت، شوری اینچنین، ملالی اینچنین و عشقی اینچنین رو خلق کنه اعجابانگیز نیست؟
March 16, 2022
رواية صغيرة للكاتبة الفرنسية مارجريت دوراس
سرد يحكي بشيء من الغموض عن حياة سيدة ثرية
ويكشف بالتدريج عن مشاعر الوحدة والحزن
أسلوب دوراس في الحكي مختلف.. بسيط وهادئ لكنه مُراوغ
سرد يحكي بشيء من الغموض عن حياة سيدة ثرية
ويكشف بالتدريج عن مشاعر الوحدة والحزن
أسلوب دوراس في الحكي مختلف.. بسيط وهادئ لكنه مُراوغ
Read
March 5, 2022نوفيلا فرنسية قصيرة ناعمة وهادئة كعنوانها " موديراتو كانتابيل" أى رسلاً وشدواً.....
لقد التقيا في اليوم الذي يلي حادثة مقتل امرأة بالمقهى ، كانت تلك الحادثة تتقاطع مع حوارهما القصير ، الذي تنصت اليه أنت قلقاً حذراً ، يأتيك صخب البحر ممتزجاً مع نغمات البيانو المتقطعة، مع صفارة نذير خروج العمال من المصنع القريب، ومع ذلك كان صوت كل منهما وحيداً ومحايداً ..
تتأمل مشاهد لقاءهما الخاطفة بينما يتلاعب الضوء والظل عليها في لعبة صامتة...
هنا تترقب ما سيفضي اليه حديثهما ، لكن في حقيقة الأمر ليس عليك سوى أن تنصت إلى كل ما لم يُقل... رسلاً...وشدواً...
لقد التقيا في اليوم الذي يلي حادثة مقتل امرأة بالمقهى ، كانت تلك الحادثة تتقاطع مع حوارهما القصير ، الذي تنصت اليه أنت قلقاً حذراً ، يأتيك صخب البحر ممتزجاً مع نغمات البيانو المتقطعة، مع صفارة نذير خروج العمال من المصنع القريب، ومع ذلك كان صوت كل منهما وحيداً ومحايداً ..
تتأمل مشاهد لقاءهما الخاطفة بينما يتلاعب الضوء والظل عليها في لعبة صامتة...
هنا تترقب ما سيفضي اليه حديثهما ، لكن في حقيقة الأمر ليس عليك سوى أن تنصت إلى كل ما لم يُقل... رسلاً...وشدواً...
December 14, 2018
دوستانِ گرانقدر، موضوعِ اصلیِ این داستان، عشقِ نافرجام است... ولی اینبار، نوعی دلدادگی که بر اثرِ تکرار در درونِ دو طرف نمایان میشود و به یکباره همچون گردی در میانِ تندباد، ناپدید میشود و میرود.. دودلی ها و شکِ بسیار، نمیگذارد تا دلدادگی به نتیجه برسد و عشق در وجودِ دو طرف جاری گردد و آن شور و هیجان بدونِ ارضا شدن، نا تمام باقی میماند.. نمیدانم، آیا میتوان نامِ این را عشق نهاد، یا خیر
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داستان در موردِ زنی ثروتمند به نامِ <آن دوبارِد> میباشد.. مادام آن دوبارِد، هر جمعه بچهٔ لاغر اندام و بیحال اش را به کلاسِ آموزشِ پیانوِ <مادمازل ژبرو> میبرد.. ولی بچهٔ بیچاره هیچ علاقه ای به پیانو و آموزشِ پیانو ندارد و همیشه ناراضی به خانه بازمیگردد .. جالب است که مادمازل ژبرو نیز نوعی تهی بودن و کسالت را از آموزشِ پیانو در وجودش احساس میکند
نزدیکِ خانهٔ مادام آن دوبارِد، میکده و کافه ای است که آن دوبارِد، گهگاهی به آنجا رفته و شراب سرخ مینوشد... یک روز جمعه، مادام آن دوبارِد، جنازهٔ غرقِ در خونِ زنی را بیرونِ کافه میبند که به او میگویند: مردی که عاشقِ این زن بوده، او را اینگونه کشته است
مادام دوبارِد، به کافه میرود و شراب سرخ مینوشد و مست میکند، ناگهان صدایی از پشت او را با نام، صدا میکند.. مادام آن، برمیگردد و مردِ جوانی به نامِ <شووَن> را میبیند... شووَن، کارمندِ شرکتِ تجاریِ شوهرِ مادام آن بوده است که شوهرِ آن، او را از کار بیکار کرده و اخراج شده است
شووَن کنارِ مادام نشسته و داستانی عاشقانه و تلخ را برایِ او تعریف میکند... پس از آن روز، غیر از روزهایِ جمعه، مادام آن و شووَن، هر روز به آن کافه رفته و مینوشند و مست میکنند و گفت و گو میکنند... کم کم و به مرورِ زمان، این دیدارها و مست کردن ها، تبدیل به دلدادگی بینِ این دو میشود، تا آنکه............................... عزیزانم، بهتر است خودتان این داستان را خوانده و از سرانجامِ آن آگاه شوید
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امیدوارم این ریویو در جهتِ آشنایی با این کتاب، کافی و مفید بوده باشه
<پیروز باشید و ایرانی>
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داستان در موردِ زنی ثروتمند به نامِ <آن دوبارِد> میباشد.. مادام آن دوبارِد، هر جمعه بچهٔ لاغر اندام و بیحال اش را به کلاسِ آموزشِ پیانوِ <مادمازل ژبرو> میبرد.. ولی بچهٔ بیچاره هیچ علاقه ای به پیانو و آموزشِ پیانو ندارد و همیشه ناراضی به خانه بازمیگردد .. جالب است که مادمازل ژبرو نیز نوعی تهی بودن و کسالت را از آموزشِ پیانو در وجودش احساس میکند
نزدیکِ خانهٔ مادام آن دوبارِد، میکده و کافه ای است که آن دوبارِد، گهگاهی به آنجا رفته و شراب سرخ مینوشد... یک روز جمعه، مادام آن دوبارِد، جنازهٔ غرقِ در خونِ زنی را بیرونِ کافه میبند که به او میگویند: مردی که عاشقِ این زن بوده، او را اینگونه کشته است
مادام دوبارِد، به کافه میرود و شراب سرخ مینوشد و مست میکند، ناگهان صدایی از پشت او را با نام، صدا میکند.. مادام آن، برمیگردد و مردِ جوانی به نامِ <شووَن> را میبیند... شووَن، کارمندِ شرکتِ تجاریِ شوهرِ مادام آن بوده است که شوهرِ آن، او را از کار بیکار کرده و اخراج شده است
شووَن کنارِ مادام نشسته و داستانی عاشقانه و تلخ را برایِ او تعریف میکند... پس از آن روز، غیر از روزهایِ جمعه، مادام آن و شووَن، هر روز به آن کافه رفته و مینوشند و مست میکنند و گفت و گو میکنند... کم کم و به مرورِ زمان، این دیدارها و مست کردن ها، تبدیل به دلدادگی بینِ این دو میشود، تا آنکه............................... عزیزانم، بهتر است خودتان این داستان را خوانده و از سرانجامِ آن آگاه شوید
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امیدوارم این ریویو در جهتِ آشنایی با این کتاب، کافی و مفید بوده باشه
<پیروز باشید و ایرانی>
February 22, 2015
‘Moderto Cantabile’ is the somewhat innocuous story of two strangers, Anne Desbaresdes and Chauvin, who meet at a seedy café every day for a week, following the murder of a young woman by her love outside that café. The sparseness of the language coalesces with the repetition of various symbols (the sunset, a magnolia flower and tugboats) which only serve to add to the ambiguity which underlines the characters motivations and actions. Take for example the description of the various sky-scapes and sunsets which take place during the week in which the novel is set, for example the description of the sunset as Anne Desbaresdes’s recalcitrant son is sullenly undertaking his music lesson ; “The colour of the sunset suddenly became so magnificent it changed the gold of the child’s hair…the pink sky exploded in a final burst of colour.” Though this beautiful image, iridising with Anne’s love for her son is soon interrupted by “Dusk began to sweep over the sea. And the sky slowly darkened, except for the red in the west, till that faded as well…” as the murder takes place.
Anne is fascinated by the murder and visits the café outside which the murder took place and there meets the sullen and sinister, yet strangely seductive, Chauvin, who regales her with the fictional account as to why the man murdered his lover. Anne is drawn in by his stories, the sexual attraction and possible relationship between the two is symbolised by the repetition of various scenes, such as the sunset and sunlight; “The sun as so low in the sky that it shone on the man’s face. His body, leaning lightly against the bar, had been bathed in it for some time.” and “The southern sky was darkened by black streaks, ochre clouds spewed skywards by the foundries.” and “The sunset was a welter of even brighter yellow on the far wall. As often at sunset, the clouds billowed in fat clusters in the still sky, revealing he last fiery rays of the sun…” at the culmination point in the couple’s relationship as they share a cold kiss which puts the embers on the dying flames of their passion. The passion does, however, reach its crescendo the night before when Anne is hosting a dinner party and Chauvin is stalking outside the house, drawn in by the scent of the magnolia which she is keeping on her breast, whose lascivious scent shocks and scandalizes the dinner guests but is carried down-wind to the nose of Chauvin, the scene reaches its climax in a scene of sexual ambiguity, in which we wonder whether he did visit her at night after the dinner party or whether the scenes he describes of him watching her movements in her house are as fictional as the tales they spin about the murdered woman and her lover.
‘Moderato Cantabile’ is a novel of ambiguities, of half-spoken emotions in which the reader is constantly unsure as to what actually happened and how much of the action takes place in the imagination of the two lead characters. It is a novel in which only two characters really exist, in which all of the other characters serve as symbols of or for the characters emotions, in which the endless repetition of certain scenes and motifs only serve to add to the uncertainty which permeates the story. Superficial comparisons can be made to writers from the nouveau roman, especially writers such as Robbe-Grillet, but these comparisons would undermine the startling originality of Dumas’s style.
Anne is fascinated by the murder and visits the café outside which the murder took place and there meets the sullen and sinister, yet strangely seductive, Chauvin, who regales her with the fictional account as to why the man murdered his lover. Anne is drawn in by his stories, the sexual attraction and possible relationship between the two is symbolised by the repetition of various scenes, such as the sunset and sunlight; “The sun as so low in the sky that it shone on the man’s face. His body, leaning lightly against the bar, had been bathed in it for some time.” and “The southern sky was darkened by black streaks, ochre clouds spewed skywards by the foundries.” and “The sunset was a welter of even brighter yellow on the far wall. As often at sunset, the clouds billowed in fat clusters in the still sky, revealing he last fiery rays of the sun…” at the culmination point in the couple’s relationship as they share a cold kiss which puts the embers on the dying flames of their passion. The passion does, however, reach its crescendo the night before when Anne is hosting a dinner party and Chauvin is stalking outside the house, drawn in by the scent of the magnolia which she is keeping on her breast, whose lascivious scent shocks and scandalizes the dinner guests but is carried down-wind to the nose of Chauvin, the scene reaches its climax in a scene of sexual ambiguity, in which we wonder whether he did visit her at night after the dinner party or whether the scenes he describes of him watching her movements in her house are as fictional as the tales they spin about the murdered woman and her lover.
‘Moderato Cantabile’ is a novel of ambiguities, of half-spoken emotions in which the reader is constantly unsure as to what actually happened and how much of the action takes place in the imagination of the two lead characters. It is a novel in which only two characters really exist, in which all of the other characters serve as symbols of or for the characters emotions, in which the endless repetition of certain scenes and motifs only serve to add to the uncertainty which permeates the story. Superficial comparisons can be made to writers from the nouveau roman, especially writers such as Robbe-Grillet, but these comparisons would undermine the startling originality of Dumas’s style.
October 12, 2020
Πριν αρκετά χρόνια σε ένα masterclass κλασικής κιθάρας στη Χαλκιδική, ο Roland Dyens μας είχε πει πως ο χρωματισμός ενός μουσικού κομματιού είναι κάτι το τελείως υποκειμενικό και εξαρτάται αποκλειστικά και μόνο από τον εκτελεστή και τη στιγμή της εκτέλεσης. Αλλιώς αντιλαμβάνεται ο κάθε μουσικός το piano, το forte, το moderato και πάει λέγοντας.
Ο τίτλος του βιβλίου αυτού είναι μουσικός. Σε ωθεί σε κάτι μελωδικό αλλά και ήπιο αφήνοντας ταυτόχρονα περιθώριο για αναγνωστικές "αυθαιρεσίες". Η Ντιράς δεν προσπαθεί να εντυπωσιάσει τον αναγνώστη -εξού και η μετριασμένη λυρικότητα - αλλά θέλει να τον μυήσει σε έναν ερωτικό γρίφο. Η ιστορία ξεκινάει από ένα μάθημα πιάνου και σταδιακά μετουσιώνεται σε ερωτικό παιχνίδι δύο αγνώστων.
Ένα βαρετό και ανούσιο μάθημα πάνω σε μια σονατίνα του Ντιαμπέλι διακόπτεται από έναν περίεργο φόνο. Είναι η αφετηρία της γνωριμίας της Άννας με ένα άγνωστο άντρα, τον Σοβέν σε ένα μικρό παραθαλάσσιο καφέ. Η συγγραφέας σταδιακά απομονώνει το ζευγάρι αφήνοντας όλους τους υπόλοιπους χαρακτήρες να λειτουργούν συμβολικά και επικουρικά μέχρι το φινάλε. Όλες οι τοποθεσίες, τα ονόματα και οι χαρακτήρες έχουν συμβολικό χαρακτήρα. Η αδιάφορη καθηγήτρια πιάνου, το μικρό παιδί της Άννας, το παρελθόν του ζευγαριού, η θάλασσα, το λιμάνι, οι ανθισμένες μανόλιες...
Η γραφή της Ντιράς θυμίζει κατά τόπους τη γραφή του Τζέημς Τζόυς γιαυτό και στο τέλος το κείμενο επιδέχεται πολλών ερμηνειών. Το παρελθόν αλλά και το μέλλον του ζευγαριού είναι σκιώδη και ίσως θα πρέπει μόνοι μας να ρίξουμε το φως που χρειάζεται. Το διήγημα είναι μικρό αλλά με μεγάλο λογοτεχνικό εκτόπισμα. Εξαιρετική η μετάφραση του Άρη Μαραγκόπουλου και πολύ ενδιαφέροντα τα εισαγωγικά στοιχεία.
5/5
Ο τίτλος του βιβλίου αυτού είναι μουσικός. Σε ωθεί σε κάτι μελωδικό αλλά και ήπιο αφήνοντας ταυτόχρονα περιθώριο για αναγνωστικές "αυθαιρεσίες". Η Ντιράς δεν προσπαθεί να εντυπωσιάσει τον αναγνώστη -εξού και η μετριασμένη λυρικότητα - αλλά θέλει να τον μυήσει σε έναν ερωτικό γρίφο. Η ιστορία ξεκινάει από ένα μάθημα πιάνου και σταδιακά μετουσιώνεται σε ερωτικό παιχνίδι δύο αγνώστων.
Ένα βαρετό και ανούσιο μάθημα πάνω σε μια σονατίνα του Ντιαμπέλι διακόπτεται από έναν περίεργο φόνο. Είναι η αφετηρία της γνωριμίας της Άννας με ένα άγνωστο άντρα, τον Σοβέν σε ένα μικρό παραθαλάσσιο καφέ. Η συγγραφέας σταδιακά απομονώνει το ζευγάρι αφήνοντας όλους τους υπόλοιπους χαρακτήρες να λειτουργούν συμβολικά και επικουρικά μέχρι το φινάλε. Όλες οι τοποθεσίες, τα ονόματα και οι χαρακτήρες έχουν συμβολικό χαρακτήρα. Η αδιάφορη καθηγήτρια πιάνου, το μικρό παιδί της Άννας, το παρελθόν του ζευγαριού, η θάλασσα, το λιμάνι, οι ανθισμένες μανόλιες...
Η γραφή της Ντιράς θυμίζει κατά τόπους τη γραφή του Τζέημς Τζόυς γιαυτό και στο τέλος το κείμενο επιδέχεται πολλών ερμηνειών. Το παρελθόν αλλά και το μέλλον του ζευγαριού είναι σκιώδη και ίσως θα πρέπει μόνοι μας να ρίξουμε το φως που χρειάζεται. Το διήγημα είναι μικρό αλλά με μεγάλο λογοτεχνικό εκτόπισμα. Εξαιρετική η μετάφραση του Άρη Μαραγκόπουλου και πολύ ενδιαφέροντα τα εισαγωγικά στοιχεία.
5/5
June 7, 2019
Having taken a keen interest in the work of Marguerite Duras after reading 'The Lover' and 'Hiroshima mon amour' I gave this beguiling novella a go. And wasn't disappointed. It is a book that is hard to pin down in terms of genre, and I am not even entirely sure I made full sense of it. What I do know, is that I couldn't put it down, and was strangely transfixed through to it's conclusion. The story first appears a very simple one. A woman, Anne Desbaresdes, takes her young son to piano lessons every Friday. On one particular Friday, shortly after the piano lesson is finished, she hears a scream from the café below the piano teacher’s apartment. A crowd has gathered and a man is sitting on the floor of the café, a woman next to him, whom he has murdered. Now this sounds like the territory of a mystery style thriller, and it partly is. But It is more about the power of passion, possession, obsession, and existence, with maybe a hint of existentialism in there too. I don't want to go into any more details, as it's a short book, I could practically give everything away. I have read quite a bit of her work since writing this review, and would say this is in my top three Duras books so far. An atmospheric and intriguing read.
Read
April 26, 2021Read forty years ago, I forgot everything, I vaguely remember a piano, and a child my age since then , who took piano lessons.
I remember that, because
at that time I was crazy about the piano, not that I wouldn't be even today.
I would like to reread it, but I would not read the presentation, I'd like to see if I still recognise myself in that child..And if he has progressed, since then..
I remember that, because
at that time I was crazy about the piano, not that I wouldn't be even today.
I would like to reread it, but I would not read the presentation, I'd like to see if I still recognise myself in that child..And if he has progressed, since then..
July 24, 2024
با معرفی عباس معروفی خوندمش
تا حالا رمانی نخونده بودم که صرفا با دیالوگ بتونه همچین فضای زیبایی رو بسازه
شاهکار بود
بازم میخونمش🥲
تا حالا رمانی نخونده بودم که صرفا با دیالوگ بتونه همچین فضای زیبایی رو بسازه
شاهکار بود
بازم میخونمش🥲
May 10, 2019
'La communication humaine: seul moyen de supporter la réalité, et peut-être d'en changer'.
(review under construction)
(review under construction)
February 23, 2023
Le genre d’histoire qui m’a toujours beaucoup accrochée en littérature! Un livre bref mais fort pour son atmosphère, qui nous intrigue beaucoup. Cependant, le dénouement est assez prévisible… j’anticipe tout de même l’analyse que je pourrai en faire en classe.
April 17, 2023
مدراتو کانتابیله کتابی سرشار احساس و ظرافت است که انگار از هیچ خلق شده است.
کتاب تصویر های محو و مبهمی از زندگی زن، پسر بچه اش و مردی دارد که به ندرت از خودش می گوید.
صدای بوق کارخانه ای که به گوش زن می رسد فضایی پر استرس را به وجود می آورد.
انگار نویسنده نمی خواهد از آنچه که در ذهنش است مستقیم و واضح صحبت کند.
تمام دیالوگ های رد و بدل شده بین زن و مرد روزمره و ساده هستند اما تا جایی که مهمانی خانه زن اتفاق می افتد، که به نظرم کلیت داستان رو اون قسمت میسازد. و همینطور از تاثیر گذارترین قسمت های کتاب هم میتواند باشد.
حسی هم که در داستان از همه پررنگ تر بود، ملال و نا امیدی بود. هر چقدر که پیش میرفتم فکر میکردم که نا امیدی و ملال شخصیت های داستان تا همان جاست اما باز هم وجود داشت و تمام شخصیت ها با آن زندگی می کردند و در آخر تنها راه فرار از ملال برای آن ها عشق بود که در آخر آن هم نافرجام ماند.
سبک کتاب جدید و نو بود و بنظرم ارتباط خوبی با خواننده برقرار می کرد. کتاب فضای غریبی داشت اما پر از احساس و لطافت بود.
کتاب تصویر های محو و مبهمی از زندگی زن، پسر بچه اش و مردی دارد که به ندرت از خودش می گوید.
صدای بوق کارخانه ای که به گوش زن می رسد فضایی پر استرس را به وجود می آورد.
انگار نویسنده نمی خواهد از آنچه که در ذهنش است مستقیم و واضح صحبت کند.
تمام دیالوگ های رد و بدل شده بین زن و مرد روزمره و ساده هستند اما تا جایی که مهمانی خانه زن اتفاق می افتد، که به نظرم کلیت داستان رو اون قسمت میسازد. و همینطور از تاثیر گذارترین قسمت های کتاب هم میتواند باشد.
حسی هم که در داستان از همه پررنگ تر بود، ملال و نا امیدی بود. هر چقدر که پیش میرفتم فکر میکردم که نا امیدی و ملال شخصیت های داستان تا همان جاست اما باز هم وجود داشت و تمام شخصیت ها با آن زندگی می کردند و در آخر تنها راه فرار از ملال برای آن ها عشق بود که در آخر آن هم نافرجام ماند.
سبک کتاب جدید و نو بود و بنظرم ارتباط خوبی با خواننده برقرار می کرد. کتاب فضای غریبی داشت اما پر از احساس و لطافت بود.
April 28, 2014
There's s kind of simple, fine-honed perfection to Duras' constructions. Nothing on the surface of her stories ever really breaks through the calm shell, they're almost soothing in cadence and repetition of details. Perfect calm is deceptive, however -- they're seething underneath. And so: a careful progression that begins with a death and a piano lesson, a series of meetings, a dinner party flailing inside and out, a fading into eternal unresolution.
January 14, 2012
Modéré et chantant. Le titre sied parfaitement au livre. Modéré dans son discours (on ne sait pas tout, on ne sait pas rien, on ne sait que ce qu'il faut), modéré dans ses ardeurs (ni passion, ni fadeur, mais une justesse absolue), chantant, chantant (par sa forme cyclique, du retour et de l'habitude, et de la répétition, encore). Le livre est absolument magnifique, tremblant de justesse, stylistiquement jouissif, poétiquement autonome. Au fil des pages, le lecteur averti se rend compte que l'important n'est pas ce qui se passe, mais que ça se passe, et les mots qui le disent. Puisque c'est un roman du dire, du devoir dire. Ce qui compte c'est que la voix ne s'éteigne pas, que la vie ne s'arrête pas, pour qu'elle continue à parler de la mort, excuse du récit pour se tenir. Vraiment, un tour de force de Marguerite Duras et un pur plaisir à lire quand on n'est pas trop attaché aux textes "traditionnels".
July 26, 2020
مدراتو کانتابیله بهترین اثر دوراس و بهترین رمان نویی ست که خوانده ام
:ویژگیهای برجسته تر رمان نو و البته کارهای دوراس اینهاست به نظرم
حمله به شیوه های رمان های کلاسیک و رئالیسم
حذف حادثه
حذف شخصیت پردازی سنتی
حذف طرح و پیرنگ
تغییر شکل و شیوه ی روایت
تغییر شیوه دیالوگ نویسی
پرسه
شیء شدن انسان
ارزش بسیار اشیا
ارزش مکان
تکرار
ملال ملال ملال
.
چیزی یادم آمد اضافه می کنم
..
:چند تا ویژگی دیگررمان نو
عدم وضوح
خاطره(بسیار مدیون سبک پروست)
حذف قهرمان
انفعال و شی گونگی(نزدیک به بکت)
تصویر(تاثیر سینما)
بی نظمی در برابر نظم کلاسیک
کاربرد انواع زمان(مدرنیستها، جویس و پروست و فاکنر و وولف)
شش مرداد نودونه
:ویژگیهای برجسته تر رمان نو و البته کارهای دوراس اینهاست به نظرم
حمله به شیوه های رمان های کلاسیک و رئالیسم
حذف حادثه
حذف شخصیت پردازی سنتی
حذف طرح و پیرنگ
تغییر شکل و شیوه ی روایت
تغییر شیوه دیالوگ نویسی
پرسه
شیء شدن انسان
ارزش بسیار اشیا
ارزش مکان
تکرار
ملال ملال ملال
.
چیزی یادم آمد اضافه می کنم
..
:چند تا ویژگی دیگررمان نو
عدم وضوح
خاطره(بسیار مدیون سبک پروست)
حذف قهرمان
انفعال و شی گونگی(نزدیک به بکت)
تصویر(تاثیر سینما)
بی نظمی در برابر نظم کلاسیک
کاربرد انواع زمان(مدرنیستها، جویس و پروست و فاکنر و وولف)
شش مرداد نودونه
January 23, 2025
A escrita é muito leve, mas as descrições das cores do céu do entardecer remetem para algo de violento, as sirenes vindas do porto também.
Houve um crime, um marido deu um tiro no coração da mulher à entrada de um bar. Mas há poucos detalhes aqui, poucas âncoras. A relação de Anne, uma mulher rica, com Chauvin, um ex-trabalhador das docas, é ambígua mas muito intensa.
As personagens existem e interagem mas há uma espécie de vazio, de suspensão do tempo e das palavras. Durante uma semana, Anne e Chauvin encontram-se todas as tardes para falar do assassinato. Gradualmente Chauvin parece dominar Anne com as palavras e com o silêncio. Ele conhece detalhes da sua vida íntima. Há uma dinâmica de poder/obsessão entre eles. Mas ambos parecem existir numa realidade onirica fora dos ditames da sociedade, fora do espaço e do tempo. Achei uma novela muito original e interessante.
[lido numa tradução em inglês do livro "Four Novels"]
Houve um crime, um marido deu um tiro no coração da mulher à entrada de um bar. Mas há poucos detalhes aqui, poucas âncoras. A relação de Anne, uma mulher rica, com Chauvin, um ex-trabalhador das docas, é ambígua mas muito intensa.
As personagens existem e interagem mas há uma espécie de vazio, de suspensão do tempo e das palavras. Durante uma semana, Anne e Chauvin encontram-se todas as tardes para falar do assassinato. Gradualmente Chauvin parece dominar Anne com as palavras e com o silêncio. Ele conhece detalhes da sua vida íntima. Há uma dinâmica de poder/obsessão entre eles. Mas ambos parecem existir numa realidade onirica fora dos ditames da sociedade, fora do espaço e do tempo. Achei uma novela muito original e interessante.
[lido numa tradução em inglês do livro "Four Novels"]
December 17, 2023
"Bir adam dolanıyor Deniz Bulvarı'nda. Bir kadın bunu biliyor."
Marguerite Duras'dan yine kağıt kesiği gibi bir minik kitap. Çok acayip bir kadın kendisi sahiden, ne vakit elime bir kitabını alsam içimde bir tuhaf ürperti duyuyorum, yine nasıl bir yerden bana nüfuz edip canımı acıtacak o kısa, kesik ama ritmik cümleleriyle diye.
Ritmik bu kitap için özellikle doğru bir sıfat bence, çünkü kitabın adı "Moderato Cantabile" bir müzik terimi; "hafif ve ezgili" anlamına geliyormuş. Duras edebiyatının sinemayla ilişkisi malum, bu kitap da çok tuhaf biçimde sinematografik, ki zaten filme de uyarlanmış.
Bir adam bir kafede karısını vurup öldürüyor. Öldürülen kadının çığlığını duyan bir başka kadın, bu olaya bir tür saplantı geliştiriyor ve her gün aynı kafeye gelip olaya şahit olan bir adamla konuşmaya başlıyor. Kitabın kahir ekseriyeti bu diyaloglardan oluşuyor. Kadın evli, adam değil. Aralarında beliren şeye aşk diyebilir miyiz, bence deriz; aşkın binbir biçiminden biri şüphesiz.
Diyaloglar dedim - aman Allahım nasıl güzel yazılmış diyaloglar. Bu kadar az kelimeyle bu kadar çok hissi nasıl aktarıyor, nasıl bu kadar sarsıcı yazabiliyor; her defasında bir kez daha vuruluyorum bu kadına. Doğru düzgün mekan betimlemeden insanın gözünün önünde böyle kalıcı imgeler / görüntüler bırakmak çok acayip bir iş; okuduğum her Duras kitabını düşündüğümde gözümün önüne resimler geliyor ve bu minicik (80 sayfa) kitabın da bana aynısını yaptığını, zamana direnen bir acayip tabloyu beynime nakşetmiş olduğunu şimdiden biliyorum.
Çok güzel, çok.
"Geceleri, evler uzaklaşıyor."
Marguerite Duras'dan yine kağıt kesiği gibi bir minik kitap. Çok acayip bir kadın kendisi sahiden, ne vakit elime bir kitabını alsam içimde bir tuhaf ürperti duyuyorum, yine nasıl bir yerden bana nüfuz edip canımı acıtacak o kısa, kesik ama ritmik cümleleriyle diye.
Ritmik bu kitap için özellikle doğru bir sıfat bence, çünkü kitabın adı "Moderato Cantabile" bir müzik terimi; "hafif ve ezgili" anlamına geliyormuş. Duras edebiyatının sinemayla ilişkisi malum, bu kitap da çok tuhaf biçimde sinematografik, ki zaten filme de uyarlanmış.
Bir adam bir kafede karısını vurup öldürüyor. Öldürülen kadının çığlığını duyan bir başka kadın, bu olaya bir tür saplantı geliştiriyor ve her gün aynı kafeye gelip olaya şahit olan bir adamla konuşmaya başlıyor. Kitabın kahir ekseriyeti bu diyaloglardan oluşuyor. Kadın evli, adam değil. Aralarında beliren şeye aşk diyebilir miyiz, bence deriz; aşkın binbir biçiminden biri şüphesiz.
Diyaloglar dedim - aman Allahım nasıl güzel yazılmış diyaloglar. Bu kadar az kelimeyle bu kadar çok hissi nasıl aktarıyor, nasıl bu kadar sarsıcı yazabiliyor; her defasında bir kez daha vuruluyorum bu kadına. Doğru düzgün mekan betimlemeden insanın gözünün önünde böyle kalıcı imgeler / görüntüler bırakmak çok acayip bir iş; okuduğum her Duras kitabını düşündüğümde gözümün önüne resimler geliyor ve bu minicik (80 sayfa) kitabın da bana aynısını yaptığını, zamana direnen bir acayip tabloyu beynime nakşetmiş olduğunu şimdiden biliyorum.
Çok güzel, çok.
"Geceleri, evler uzaklaşıyor."
July 27, 2017
Quintessentially French elements that I encountered in this book as well as one or more other French books I've read in my short time as a student of French:
1. Repressed wife who longs for sexual liberation.
2. Excessive drinking of red wine by sexually repressed wife but also by others.
3. Husband who just doesn't "get it." Not usually evil, just sort of...there, which is evil enough. Extra points if he's never named because he's THAT useless.
4. Young child whom the sexually repressed wife loves even though he/she represents the oppressive lifestyle she wishes to escape. Extra points if they're never named also because they're more important as a symbol than as a person.
5. Climactic scene where repressed wife reveals how repressed she feels much to the horror of dinner guests/family members.
6. Everyone speaks French, much to the horror of me.
7. Heavy-handed condemnation of the bourgeois lifestyle.
I should make some sort of bingo board for this.
1. Repressed wife who longs for sexual liberation.
2. Excessive drinking of red wine by sexually repressed wife but also by others.
3. Husband who just doesn't "get it." Not usually evil, just sort of...there, which is evil enough. Extra points if he's never named because he's THAT useless.
4. Young child whom the sexually repressed wife loves even though he/she represents the oppressive lifestyle she wishes to escape. Extra points if they're never named also because they're more important as a symbol than as a person.
5. Climactic scene where repressed wife reveals how repressed she feels much to the horror of dinner guests/family members.
6. Everyone speaks French, much to the horror of me.
7. Heavy-handed condemnation of the bourgeois lifestyle.
I should make some sort of bingo board for this.
May 30, 2021
رمان را که میخوانی احساس میکنی همهچیز تصویر محوی از خودش است. زن و پسر بچه، مردی که به ندرت چیزی درباره خودش میگوید و صدای بوق کارخانه که از هر جایی که زن باشد به گوش میرسد. میان آنچه نویسنده میگوید و آنچه خواننده میخواند فاصلهای هست. انگار نویسنده نمیخواهد مستقیم و دقیق و واضح از چیزی که توی سرش بوده حرف بزند. روایت یک دست و ساده پیش میرود تا اینکه فصل ضیافت شام شروع میشود. آن فصل شبیه شکافی است، درهای که باید با احتیاط ازش بگذری. و احتمالاً بخش مهمی از کلیت رمان را باید مختصر و فشرده در این فصل پیدا کرد. با آن آداب عجیب و توصیفاتی که خوردن را به کاری مشتمئزکننده تبدیل میکند و زن که در انتها همه را بالا میآورد. برای من فضای رمانهای دوراس غریبند همیشه. انگار داری تصویری زیبا را از دور تماشا میکنی و قرار نیست با نزدیکتر شدنت، آن تصویر واضحتر شود. باید خودت آن معنای شفاف را از درون همین تصویر تار پیدا کنی.
April 6, 2015
Anne Desbaresdes continues to smile and say nothing. The man has decided to leave the garden and walk to the edge of town. As he goes, the scent of the magnolias grows fainter, giving way to the smell of the sea.
Anne Desbaresdes will accept a little coffee ice cream, for the sake of appearances.
In spite of himself the man will retrace his steps. Again he sees the magnolias, the railings, the bay windows in the distance, still lit, still lit. On his lips, the song heard that afternoon, and the name that he will utter a little louder this time. He will come.
She knows it. The magnolia at her breast's completely wilted. In one hour it has lived through a whole summer. Sooner or later the man will pass by the garden. He has come. She keeps torturing the flower at her breast.
Anne Desbaresdes will accept a little coffee ice cream, for the sake of appearances.
In spite of himself the man will retrace his steps. Again he sees the magnolias, the railings, the bay windows in the distance, still lit, still lit. On his lips, the song heard that afternoon, and the name that he will utter a little louder this time. He will come.
She knows it. The magnolia at her breast's completely wilted. In one hour it has lived through a whole summer. Sooner or later the man will pass by the garden. He has come. She keeps torturing the flower at her breast.
November 15, 2024
Kao i svaka knjiga Margaret Diras, čudna, ali mi se svidjela, 5⭐️ iz neobjašnjivih razloga, možda samo zato što mi je, iako dosta nejasna, ipak bila bliska!
November 17, 2019
يوحي تصرفه معها كما لو أنه لم يعد يهمه منذ ذلك الحين أن تكون حية أو ميتة .
هل تعتقد أن من الممكن بلوغ هذه الدرجة عن طريق آخر غير اليأس ؟
January 10, 2020
اولین بار بود این سبک قلم رو خوندم
دیالوگی بی اهمیت و روزمره و بشدّت ساده از یک زن و مرد که بیشتر ملاقاتاشونم در کافه ایی صورت میگیره
خلق این عشق ناپایان و پایان داستانی عجیب قابل تحسینه
دمت گرم خانم دوراس
دیالوگی بی اهمیت و روزمره و بشدّت ساده از یک زن و مرد که بیشتر ملاقاتاشونم در کافه ایی صورت میگیره
خلق این عشق ناپایان و پایان داستانی عجیب قابل تحسینه
دمت گرم خانم دوراس
June 29, 2015
Impressive. The strong style of Marguerite Duras can be seen in this little novel.
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