"... once and for all and peace and that's enough."
FIN
Yes, you had to put an end coincides with the closing of the last page of this project, blog-city, book, exhibition or personal therapy long long time. There give it a name, said John Hélène 62 Model Kit, but also must be wary of words as the mural reminds Place Freels.
Words ... Which are at least those of Julio Cortázar himself in a radio interview conducted by Blázquez in the program Adelaide stubs , over twenty-five years
One of the main interpreters of Rayuela, Carlos Fuentes, says this book exhausts all possible formulations of a book impossible, and moreover refers to the substitution in the same Beufon's famous phrase: "Man is an animal who knows he will die", by "the Man is not, but wants to be and this will be the real goal of their search. The funny thing at this point is the phrase cryptic that the author of Rayuela puts into the mouth of one of its characters: "Paris is the original model of being."
JC: I may have written, but ... as I have spent already 60 years old, I start to have memory leaks, and the truth is that I do not remember having written all that. My relationship with Paris, good, bad self-cited, but I should refer to those who hear that a book like Hopscotch and many stories. That is, a contact to root out deeply magical, poetic root, which caused me to see in Paris a city of choice, a city in which no City renounce my former life that is Buenos Aires, and is also a magical city, I did, however, a kind of reverse of the medal, gave me a world that is not conceivable in Argentina and Buenos Aires. My connection to Paris was, and it shows too much of what I have written, on one hand a poetic link and on the other, a metaphysical link, and in that sense, yes, there is some discovery of essences that I did here and he had not done anywhere else. Finally my relationship with Paris, I think that has always been an erotic relationship ... I believe that Paris is the woman of my life.
it's no wonder that fans are bent on topics found in Cortazar's work, as in any hispanic artist of his generation that has passed through Paris, influenced by surrealism.
JC: I have had a special relationship with the surreal, because I have the impression, of course, my critics know that better than me, because I have no critical sense, or with respect to myself or with respect to others no, I have been given, but in the end, anyway I have enough awareness of what I have done, what I've tried to do to say that I do not think there has been a direct influence on me, literary surrealism. What came, when I met surrealism in Buenos Aires in the 40's, when I read [all the French Surrealists who came to Argentina at that time] was the discovery of a series of breaks that seemed extraordinary. That is, what I saw in Surrealism was the attempt to demolish a number of shells, a series of whitewashed tombs, a series of structures and bad, that came down and continued to maintain official literature.
More than surrealism seems to dominate Julio Cortázar a dimension that one almost hesitates to call because the word fantastic results in misunderstandings. A good definition of this term however has been proposed by the Czech writer Milan Kundera: "the fantastic is to give a dreamlike dimension of reality to that reality becomes even more real." It is not because of opposing reality-unreality, but to tear down the border between them.
JC: It is very beautiful Milan Kundera's phrase I do not know. What I would say is that ... I have a certain prejudice about the notion of borders, because every time someone talk to me, and critics working on the issue between fantasy and reality, it tends to draw a line on one side is the reality, on the other hand the fantastic. I begin by suggesting that the notion of border itself is highly artificial ... is like the notion of the Arctic Circle or Ecuador. When you cross the Atlantic in a boat and the captain comes and says we are now crossing the line of Ecuador, and all children were leaning over the railing to see if they see the line, because they want to see it and naturally not [.. .] The great thing is something that happens here, right now, for me at least is something that happens in reality. I think all my fairy tales happen in everyday reality and more pedestrian and more simple and then suddenly there's a twist, a door opens and when you thought you were going out to a hallway that goes forward, as there is a fork and go into another dimension, but eventually return to reality, you're not the exception. In that sense, I think it truly enriches reality, but without the reality, and importantly, the fantastic without reality dissolves and makes no sense. We need to be installed on reality so that what has value and has great beauty. [I've always hated the literature that is purely fantastic ...] A fantastic things happen to me all the time, but I'm still alive, I'm still in reality.
right ... Paris and passion, the surreal and offender court, questioning the border between reality and fantasy ... but then again it is difficult to verbalize, the appellant Metro ticket forgotten in a pocket, the street musician who sings in your path Do not think twice, it's allright right in the moment of loneliness, depression and prey of doubt in your mind, the immense surprise to see what was underneath the window Foundation Henri Cartier-Bresson, the ghostly tour of the rue de la Huchette and down to the Saint Michel station one night in January after seeing Blade Runner Studio Galande (city ...), pages many stories, as unknown as recognized-read in a leather armchair in an apartment of the Rue Vaneau, discovery-time after-which meant the same street in Rayuela, finding an allegory of La Maga, Rocamadour and Horacio nothing less than the rue Mouffettard (yes Henri, ...), there are moments that man alone in the Pont des Arts, a store that sold mate against the heart of chalk rue Cloche Perce, the dummies that follow you with their eyes on the trail of de Clignancourt Flea, a portal with basilisks figures should be in Vienna but is on the Ile Saint Louis, the shadows that cross the bridges of the Canal Saint Martin ... or adolescent osita stretches in the sun lying on a tombstone, on which were written the names of Julio Cortázar and Carol Dunlop, while telling his friend how and why I wanted so much to Julie, that was the picture I did, I did not want to do, because I wanted to call that place and not Kindberg Montparnasse Cemetery ...
No, there is no end beyond of words. But there are no escape routes. Doors and passages occur in the continuum of the city. And the next step - at least for me, will start again from the Home>
Paris is a center, do you understand, a mandala is to go without dialectics, a labyrinth where pragmatic formulas serve only to get lost. Then a cogito that is like breathing Paris into letting him go, no logos and pneuma.
(...) Paris danced outside waiting for us, we had just landed, barely lived, everything was there without name or history ...
Rayuela, chap. 93
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