Hiperactividad en la biblioteca

Yo con este blog no pretendo hacer crítica literaria sino tener más bien y según el nombre del espacio, un sitio de lectura en el que yo de momento, espero que en el futuro varios millones de lectores, decimos - digo - en voz alta lo que me parecen mis lecturas. Es una manera de dar salida al carácter exhibicionista de mi espíritu, ya que la naturaleza no me ha dotado con el tipo que me permite lucir mi cuerpo serrano; que si lo hubiera hecho, vendría a la oficina en bikini.

Varias cosas que tengo que compartir con el mundo:

Este artículo me lo manda Gonflinder V, perdón Glorfindel III, por eso no leo el anillo, nombres imposibles, que es un genio y además un encanto:

La recomendación de la novela es de Oprah, cuya conexión con el presidente, a veces me temo, sea más estrecha que la de la mismísima Michelle, con lo que no me sorprende.

También participo al cosmos de he tenido que cancelar mi encargo en Amazon.co.uk porque se ha encasquillado y alguno de los títulos que está pendiente de publicación me está retrasando todo el envío, creo que recurriré al amazon yanqui. Sé que mi público no duerme pensando en mis libros asiqué me aseguraré de teneros puntualmente informados.

Y por último Kipling, a quien seguro volveremos a visitar. Yo creo que no tiene los copiraits activos y no me meto en ningún lío al poner aquí uno de mis párrafos favoritos de la literatura universal - Porqué leer a Proust cuando puedes leer a Kipling??? Se me llenan lo ojos de lágrimas cuando oigo hablar a Bagheera, ay!

"And what is a man that he should not run with his brothers?" said Mowgli. "I was born in the jungle. I have obeyed the Law of the Jungle, and there is no wolf of ours from whose paws I have not pulled a thorn. Surely they are my brothers!"

Bagheera stretched himself at full length and half shut his eyes. "Little Brother," said he, "feel under my jaw."

Mowgli put up his strong brown hand, and just under Bagheera's silky chin, where the giant rolling muscles were all hid by the glossy hair, he came upon a little bald spot.

"There is no one in the jungle that knows that I, Bagheera, carry that mark--the mark of the collar; and yet, Little Brother, I was born among men, and it was among men that my mother died--in the cages of the king's palace at Oodeypore. It was because of this that I paid the price for thee at the Council when thou wast a little naked cub. Yes, I too was born among men. I had never seen the jungle. They fed me behind bars from an iron pan till one night I felt that I was Bagheera--the Panther-- and no man's plaything, and I broke the silly lock with one blow of my paw and came away. And because I had learned the ways of men, I became more terrible in the jungle than Shere Khan. Is it not so?"

"Yes," said Mowgli, "all the jungle fear Bagheera--all except Mowgli."

"Oh, thou art a man's cub," said the Black Panther very tenderly. "And even as I returned to my jungle, so thou must go back to men at last--to the men who are thy brothers--if thou art not killed in the Council."

"But why--but why should any wish to kill me?" said Mowgli.

"Look at me," said Bagheera. And Mowgli looked at him steadily between the eyes. The big panther turned his head away in half a minute.

"That is why," he said, shifting his paw on the leaves. "Not even I can look thee between the eyes, and I was born among men, and I love thee, Little Brother. The others they hate thee because their eyes cannot meet thine; because thou art wise; because thou hast pulled out thorns from their feet--because thou art a man."

"I did not know these things," said Mowgli sullenly, and he frowned under his heavy black eyebrows.

version en español