Con Estravagario, Pablo Neruda inaugura una poesía en la que busca «otros lenguajes, otros signos», para conocer el mundo; una visión ambivalente de la. Estravagario (Spanish Edition) [Pablo Neruda] on *FREE* shipping on qualifying offers. Book by Neruda, Pablo. Estravagario (Spanish Edition) [Pablo Neruda] on *FREE* shipping on qualifying offers.
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Extravagaria by Pablo Neruda. Extravagaria marks an important stage in Neruda’s progress as a poet. The book was written just after he had returned to Chile after many wanderings and moved to his beloved Isla Negra on the Pacific coast. These sixty-eight poems thus denote a resting point, a rediscovery of sea and land, and an “autumnal period” as the poet himself called it.
In this book, Neruda devel Extravagaria marks an important stage in Neruda’s progress as a poet.
In this book, Neruda developed a lyric poetry decidedly more personal than his earlier work. Paperbackpages.
Published January 15th by Farrar, Straus and Giroux first published To see what your friends thought of this book, please sign up. To ask other readers questions about Extravagariaplease sign up. Lists with This Book.
Mar 18, ilknur a. Oct 14, Szplug rated it it was amazing. Pablo Neruda has been blessed with English translators who possess the ability to harness a powerful measure of the latinate genius that guided Neruda’s bountiful pen, such that their own interpretations prove aureate in and of themselves. Alastair Reid is one of these gifted bestowers of Anglo access to Spanish verse; what’s more, ever since I read Walter Benjamin’s sentiments on translation I have endeavored to view all such efforts through the prism that he suggested.
This has altered my appr Pablo Neruda has been blessed with English translators who possess the ability to harness a powerful measure of the latinate genius that guided Neruda’s bountiful pen, such that their own interpretations prove aureate in and of themselves.
This has altered my appreciation of the various interpretive offspring of native tongues – my Spanish remains barely acceptable enough that at times I will craft my own cringeworthy translation of Neruda’s verse and compare what I wrought with that of the published expert; now, post-Benjamin, I find myself under a new regime both as regards my own arch-amateur output and as to how I assess that of the professional scribe.
Thanks Walt, you sidereal stylist! Every poem strokes, kneading the soul like my grandmother used to work over the cookie dough. No entiendo sino las cenizas. Who am I in this dead city? I understand only the ashes. The betel-seller looks at me, recognizing neither my shoes nor my recently resurrected face. Perhaps his grandfather would grant me a salaambut it so happens that he succumbed while I was travelling, dropped deep into the well of death.
I slept in such a building fourteen months and the corresponding years; I wrote out my misery. I bit innocently into bitterness.
I pass now and the door is not there. The rain has been working overtime. Now it dawns on me that I have been not just one man but several, and that I have died so many times with no notion of how I was reborn, as if the act of changing clothes were to force me to live another life, and here I am without the dstravagario idea of why I cannot recognize a soul, of why no one recognizes me, as if everyone here were dead and I alive in the midst of such forgetting, a bird that still survives— or, the reverse, the city watching me, and realizing I am the one who is dead.
I walk through the silk bazaars, and the markets of misery. It is hard to believe the streets are the selfsame streets; the black eyes, hard as nailpoints, glare back against my glances, and the pale Gold Pagoda with all its frozen idolatry has no eyes now, no hands, no longer any fire.
Goodbye, streets soiled by time, goodbye, goodbye, lost love. I return to the wine of my house, I return to the love of my loved one, to what I was and to what I am, water and sun, earth ripe with apples, months estravqgario lips and with names. I come back not to return; no more do I wish to mislead myself.
It is dangerous to wander backward, for all of a sudden the past turns into a prison. Jun 02, M. Feb 17, Huda AbuKhoti rated it it was amazing. Incomparably my favorite among the other collections I’ve read for him! Definitely different and worth the read, glad I read other sides of his poetry than what he’s most nerjda for. Nedense Orhan Veli’ye de benzettim biraz: Apr 23, Bruce rated it it was amazing. Extravagaria was the only volume currently on the shelf, hence I began there, and what a treat it has been.
The poems are simple, intensely personal, and filled with imaginative and often startling metaphors, leaping into the unexpected and inviting rereading again and again. This edition was translated by Alastair Reid, the translation being beautiful. My Spanish is too rudimentary for me to be able to judge the accuracy of the translation, but the Spanish is listed on the facing page, so it is easy to see that Reid has stuck close to the original.
Even without facility in Spanish, I found myself going back and estrafagario between the Spanish and English, reading the Spanish aloud just to relish its music.
Oct 24, Robert rated it really liked it. Dec 08, Eryn rated it liked it. Apr 30, Michael Holland rated it it was amazing. Probably my favorite poet, this book was neruca in his fifties, so it shed light on to his past and future with great wisdom, dealing with life and death issues, political agendas, the significance, if there is any, of our existence, how we waste time in our self-importance, how in the end, we are just human, flawed, and a dot on netuda sphere’s map.
All of this is written with great emotion, great use of poetic elements metaphor and etsravagario especially. I love everything about this man, and I Probably my favorite poet, this book was written in his fifties, so it shed light on to his past and future with great wisdom, dealing with life and death issues, political agendas, the significance, if there is any, of our existence, how we waste time in our self-importance, how in the end, we are just human, flawed, and a dot on the sphere’s map.
I love everything about this man, and I pull this book all the time and read randoms poems. They always make me think, and also consider the craft of poetry! Feb 04, Suzanne Kittrell rated it it was amazing. The Best Book of poetry ever. I have carried this book with me for decades and have had to replace it twice.
I picked up again to read and reflect on this past Fall. This book never fails to please me. Dec 31, Mona rated it really liked it Recommended estravagatio Mona by: Robin Coste Lewis read a poem from this book in estravagafio acceptance speech for the National Book Award for Poetry in the video is herefast-forward to 8: A mi modo de gustar, es un libro morrocotudo, con ese sabor de sal que tiene la verdad”.
Jul 09, Tamara Evans rated it really liked it Shelves: An excellent collection of poetry translations which range in topic from life, travel and the sea.
I like that although the poems are originally in Spanish, the translator does an excellent job of estravaario that the English estracagario of the poems encompasses the beauty of from the originally.
Jul 05, Shashank rated it it was amazing. There will few poets and fewer those who can stir you from within from this cataclysmic imagery. Neruda was and will always be a pioneer in this visual Imagery.
This is the best book on poem I have read till now. More introspective, personal, and relaxed than his other collections, while maintaining the beauty he’s often known for.
His greatest poem, the overlooked and multi-page Autumn Testament closes out this volume, and warrants the price of admission alone. Jan 18, Richard Rensberry rated it it was amazing. One of my favorite poetry books of all time. Essential reading for any poetry lover.
May 21, Ragavendra K swamy rated it it was amazing Shelves: May 24, Robert Teeter rated it it was amazing Shelves: Neruda wrote this book when he was in his 50s, and it was one of his favorites. In this work, Neruda at once looks back to the surrealism of “Residence on Earth” written when he was in his 30slooks around at his current “autumnal” mood, and looks ahead, sometimes contemplating his own death.
But always he remembers his beloved Matilda Urrutia, sometimes exuberantly as in these lines from “Autumn Testament”: You are my chosen one, more tempered by winds than thin trees in the south, a hazel in Neruda wrote this book when he was in his 50s, and it was one of his favorites. You are my chosen one, more tempered by winds than thin trees in the south, a hazel in August; for me you are as delicious as a great bakery.
You have an earth heart but your hands are from heaven. You are red and spicy, you are white and salty like pickled onions, you are a laughing piano with every human note; and music runs over me from your eyelashes and your hair.
I wallow in your gold shadow, I’m enchanted by your ears as though I had seen them before in underwater coral. In the sea for your nails’ sake, I took on terrifying fish. From life on the streets to visiting the seaside, this was one of those poetry books that had it all for me.
Honestly, I never expected myself to like this book so much. Maybe it’s just me, but I tend to avoid books of poetry that have been translated. I also feel like something must’ve gotten lost in the translation, but I can’t see how in this one.
So even translated from Spanish into English, Neruda’s poetry didn’t loose any of it’s allure and glamour. It was gritty, but sparkled.