Lozovschi Simona

Articole postate de Lozovschi Simona

  • Iubire... 193

    Nu ne-am născut să iubim mai mult de cîțiva oameni. Iubirea e un eveniment intim, ciudat şi plin de contradicții, căci nu o dată se întîmplă să iubim pe cineva din dragoste pentru noi înşine, din egoism, din cupiditate, din pasiunea trupească, din voința de a-l stăpîni pe cel iubit şi de a-l supune, sau invers, dintr-un fel de voluptate de a ne supune obiectului iubirii noastre, şi în general iubirea e foarte asemănătoare urii, şi mult mai apropiată ei decît pot concepe majoritatea oamenilor. - Amos Oz, IudaToate sentimentele mi se par inutile, făcînd ca lucrurile să se termine rău. Viața poate fi mult mai simplă dacă abolim emomțiile. Dar nu trebuie să te educ, Shmuel. Poate te mulțumești cu faptul că, în general, te tolerez într-o măsură mai mare sau mai mică, iar din cînd în cînd apar și momente ceva mai bune decît acesta. - Amos Oz, Iuda

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  • Jose Saramago, Intermitentele mortii... 197

    De mult nu m-am mai simtit asa bine in compania unui scriitor. Citeam si simteam ca am in fata ochilor un scriitor al naibii de inteligent, de la care pot invata o multime de lucruri. Citeam si simteam ca sint intr-o cafenea plina cu fum de tigara de vorba cu Saramago. Citeam si simteam ca am in fata mea persoana care as vrea sa fiu.  Ii iubesc inteligenta, jovialitatea, ironia amara si ateismul.  Daca nu reincepem sa murim, nu vom avea viitor.  Ii iubesc si muzica si chiar am citit cartea pe fundalul muzical propus de Saramago.  [...] un muzician, un violoncelist, un artist care se straduieste sa ajunga sa cinte in mod demn suita numarul 6, opus o mie doisprezece, in re major, de bach, este de parere, spuneam, ca nu e bine ca un muzician, un violoncelist, un artist sa fi venit pe lume pentru a aduna de pe jos rahatii inca aburind ai ciinelui sau sau ai oricarui altuia. Nu

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  • life (7)... 190

     moartea s-a terminat.                                                                            - Jose Saramago, Intermitențele morții ...

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  • Vers 13, Judith Ortiz Cofer... 388

    Orar: To PrayAfter the hissed pleas, denunciations -the children just tucked in -perhaps her hand on his dress-shirt sleeve,brushed off, leaving a trace of cologne,impossible, it seemed, to wash offwith plain soap, he'd go, his feet lighton the gravel. In their room, she'd fallon her knees to say prayers composedto sound like praise; followingher mother's warning never to make demandsoutright from God nor a man.On the other side of the thin wall,I lay listening to the sounds I recognisedfrom an early age: knees on wood, shiftingthe pain so the floor creaked, and a woman'sconversation with the wind - that carriedher sad voice out of the open windowto me. And her words - if they did not riseto heaven, fell on my chest, where they areembedded like splinters of a crossI also carried.Women Who Love AngelsThey are thinand rarely m

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  • alas!... 405

      My first experience with Elif Shafak took the form of Three Daughters of Eve (2016) and left me somewhat disappointed. It is a well written book and I could easily recognise the author's talent and  her intelligent use of various narrative techniques, yet it could have been a splendid book had it not been for the few supernatural appearances, unrealistic experiences and some elements of the plot.  It could have been a great book dealing with modern day problems like terrorism, religion and its place in the 21st century, feminism, Eastern and Western societies, democracy and so forth. Unfortunately, Shafak turned all these stringent problems into some sort of a classic professor-student love story.  I could have happily written pages on feminism and motherhood; on how Peri evolved from a curious little girl who swore not to repeat her mother's mistakes into a brave, powerful and independent woman, wh

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  • oppression... 367

    Or the woman at the checkout stand who had to tell me it was a shame I was having kids at such a young age. My two-year-old brother was with me in line holding on the colored coupons after I'd counted them. I was fourteen and not yet bleeding. (Ednie Kaeh Garrison, "Sitting in the Waiting Room of Adult and Family Services at SE 122nd in Portland, Oregon, with My Sister and My Mother Two Hours Before I Return to School" in This Bridge We Call Home, Anzaldua and Keating, eds.)

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  • tineriada... 376

    bun, am fost în piață, mi-am strigat nemulțumirile alături de oamenii de acolo (mai ales în primele zile, cînd magazinele încă aveau vuvuzele în stoc), m-am certat cu părinții, am înjurat foarte mult, mai între dinți, mai direct, m-am simțit abuzată de o mînă de ticăloși, iar m-am certat cu părinții, am simțit cum mi se năruie întregul sistem de valori, ba chiar m-am gîndit să mă mut din țară, să caut un loc mai civilizat și mai onest. pesimistă din fire, nu am crezut nicio clipă din cele în care-am înghețat în piața unirii că dragnea o să dea înapoi.în teorie (și în discursurile agramate ale politicienilor noștri drăguți) am cîștigat, dar nu mă simt deloc învingătoare. știm cu toții că e o chestiune de timp pînă cînd prevederile din OUG 13 vor intra în parlament, sub o formă sau alta. simt doar că mi s-a dat o șansă să-mi mai hodinesc nițel picioarele. astăzi stau acasă, dar mîine știu unde mă duc!ce mă mîhnește profund e protestul pro-guvern. sînt perfect de acord ca

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  • Make America Great [Britain] Again!... 388

    One American Dream by Bernard Beck is yet another book (on its way to becoming a bestseller) about the [futile] pursuit of living the American dream. This time the protagonists are neither African-Americans nor Latin Americans, but second and third generations of Jews coming from Poland and struggling to find success and happiness.  Jacob Rubinowitz, in particular, seems to be obsessed with becoming a real American. He was only a child when his mother took him to the States and, as soon as the law allowed him to, he changed his name and became John Rubin. Still, each time he got a bit closer to finally becoming a true American, he felt he lacked authenticity: "Throughout my life I have invented, reinvented, burnished, refurbished, constructed, and reconstructed myself as often as necessary in order to achieve my ultimate goal: to be a real American". Thus this became John's obsession and it marked his entire existence and even his relationships wi

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  • dor... 449

    imi e dor de ploaie ca de mine insami....

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  • A humorous discovery... 422

    A humorous discovery or how I came to like Judith Ortiz Cofer's writing after reading two of her autobiographic works that didn't impress me much. A less good writer of memoirs than a storyteller, Judith Ortiz Cofer surprised me in The Line of the Sun as having a great sense of humour and a gift for storytelling: Small towns are vindictive, and when it became known that El Padrecito Cesar had been sent away to a mountain retreat for his health, a rumor began to circulate that the young priest had been caught "in flagrante" by the housekeeper, Leonarda, who had then aroused Don Gonzalo from a deep sleep. For days Leonarda was sought after by the townswomen for afternoon coffee, and even invited into the wealthier homes in town, where the old woman had never crossed the threshold except to wash floors. They interrogated her endlessly about the scandal up at the rectory, but she played the c

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  • 2016 in books... 441

    another harsh and interesting year is over and i find myself, yet again, feeling sorry for not reading as much as i could have. so, 2016 means the following books and articles: 1. Maya Socolovsky, Troubling Nationhood in U.S. Latina Literature: Explorations of Place and Belongings 2. Ellen McCracken, New Latina Narrative. The Feminine Space of Postmodern Ethnicity 3. Judith Ortiz Cofer, Silent Dancing: A Partial Remembrance of a Puerto Rican Childhood 4. Jennifer Browdy de Hernandez (ed), Women Writing Resistance. Essays on Latin America and the Carribean 5. Cherrie Moraga, Giving Up the Ghost, Teatro in Two Acts (I am so happy to remember having read it in the Erlangen-Nurnberg train) 6. Cherrie Moraga, Loving in the War Years

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