2017, filmes

captain fantastic

You would prefer to celebrate a magical fictitious elf, instead of a living humanitarian who's done so much to promote human rights and understanding?

la la land

♪ and when they let you down, you'll get up off the ground,
'cause morning rolls around and it's another day of sun ♫

the handmaiden

You have a week of freedom. But you must remember the thing in the cellar.

nocturnal animals

Do you ever feel like your life has turned into something you never intended?

the lobster

When we turn our heads to the left it means 'I love you more than anything in the world' and when we turn our heads to the right it means 'Watch out, we're in danger'.

[outros filmes com menção honrosa: kedi, ghostbusters, loving vincent]


2017, livros

A amiga genial, Elena Ferrante
O que era a plebe eu soube naquele momento, e com muito mais clareza do que quando, anos antes, Oliveiro me fizera aquela pergunta. A plebe éramos nós. A plebe era aquela disputa por comida misturada a vinho, aquela briga por quem era servido antes e melhor, aquele pavimento imundo sobre o qual os garços iam e vinham, aqueles brindes cada vez mais vulgares.

Cat's eye, Margaret Atwood
Apart from all this, I do of course have a real life. I sometimes have trouble believing in it, because it doesn't seem like the kind of life I could ever get away with, or deserve. This goes along with another belief of mine: that everyone else my age is an adult, whereas I am merely in disguise.

Nutshell, Ian McEwan
To be bound in a nutshell, see the world in two inches of ivory, in a grain of sand. Why not, when all of literature, all of art, of human endeavour, is just a speck in the universe of possible things.

Annihilation, Jeff VanderMeer
The map had been the first form of misdirection, for what is a map but a way of emphasizing some things and making other things invisible

A câmara sangrenta e outras histórias, Angela Carter
E a cada vez que passava a língua ele arrancava, camada após camada de pele, todas as peles de uma vida no mundo, e deixava no lugar uma pátina nascente de pelos brilhantes. Meus brincos se transformaram novamente em água e escorreram pelos meus ombros; sacudi as gotas de cima da minha pelagem tão bonita.

[os outros estão aqui.]


2016, filmes

Macbeth (2015)

O, full of scorpions is my mind!

Relatos salvages (2014)

¿Dónde está la violencia?
¿Dónde la ve?

Ex Machina (2015)

I'm interested to see what you'll choose.

The Witch (2015)

Wouldst thou like the taste of butter? A pretty dress? Wouldst thou like to live deliciously?

Ixcanul (2015)

- Si tú lo hiciste entonces, puedo hacerlo yo también.
- No te creas todo lo que decimos.

Arrival (2016)

Language is the first weapon drawn in a conflict.


2016, livros

Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell
Why? Because of this:—one fine day, a purely predatory world shall consume itself. Yes, the devil shall take the hindmost until the foremost is the hindmost. In an individual, selfishness uglifies the soul. For the human species, selfishness is extinction.

Is this the doom written within our nature?

If we believe that humanity may transcend tooth & claw, if we believe divers races & creeds can share this world as peaceably as the orphans share their candlenut tree, if we believe that leaders must be just, violence muzzled, power accountable & the riches of the Earth & its Oceans shared equitably, such a world will come to pass. I am not deceived. It is the hardest of worlds to make real.


Maus - Art Spiegelman


Great House - Nicole Krauss
YOUR HONOR, for as long as I can remember I set myself apart. Or rather I believed that I had been set apart from others, chosen out. I won’t waste your time with the injuries of my childhood, with my loneliness, or the fear and sadness of the years I spent inside the bitter capsule of my parents’ marriage, under the reign of my father’s rage, after all, who isn’t a survivor from the wreck of childhood? I have no desire to describe mine; I only want to say that in order to survive that dark and often terrifying passage of my life I came to believe certain things about myself. I didn’t grant myself magical powers or believe myself to be under the watch of some beneficent force—it was nothing so tangible as that—nor did I ever lose sight of the immutable reality of my situation. I simply came to believe that one, the factual circumstances of my life were almost accidental and didn’t grow out of my own soul, and two, I possessed something unique, a special strength and a depth of feeling that would allow me to withstand the hurt and injustice without being broken by it.


Here I Am - Jonathan Safran Foer
I was wrong about almost everything. But I was right about the speed of the losing. Some of the moments were interminably long—the first cruel night of sleep training; cruelly (it felt) peeling him off a leg on the first day of school; pinning him down while the doctor who wasn’t stitching his hand back together told me, “This is not a time to be his friend”—but the years passed so quickly I had to search videos and photo albums for proof of our shared life. It happened. It must have. We did all that living. And yet it required evidence, or belief.


S. - Doug Dorst & JJ Abrams

Menção honrosa: The Bees - Laline Paull, City on Fire - Garth Hallberg, The Woman in White - Wilkie Collins, Satin Island - Tom McCarthy.


2016, séries


Uploaded to the cloud, sounds like heaven.

Les Revenants
Hier soir, j’ai cru que Simon revenait. C’était très réel. Il m’a parlé. Il criait, même. Ça faisait des années que ça m’était pas arrivé.

Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency
- What doesn't kill you, you know, usually makes you...
- Makes you hurt real bad and makes you cry?

The Fall
- I live at a level of intensity unknown to you and others of your type. You will never know the almost God-like power that I feel when that last bit of breath leaves a body. That feeling of complete possession.
- Yes, you felt empowered. Invincible even. But you're under arrest. Maybe you did possess your victims, but you couldn't keep them, and now they're gone and you're alone.

Some people choose to see the ugliness in this world. The disarray. I choose to see the beauty.


Edna St. Vincent Millay

My candle burns at both ends;
It will not last the night;
But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends—
It gives a lovely light!



estou há quase uma hora procurando uma citação de um (suposto) livro do milan kundera em que um personagem compara a relação com a família a receber cartas with no return address & que só servem pra lembrar a pessoa de um território que ela abandonou & para o qual não há volta. não tem mapa que indique o caminho, nem modo de impedir o carteiro de te encontrar. pelo insucesso, estou começando a desconfiar que inventei a história, ou, no mínimo, que fiz uma leitura muito particular.
em resumo: natal, né.


Filmes, 2015

Ce n'est qu'un début
- C'est quoi, notre âme?
- C'est un truc invisible qui est bleu.
- C'est quelque chose d'invisible.
- Et ça sort de notre ventre.

Clouds of Sils Maria

This poor woman is ready to kill herself before the play even starts. She's using Sigrid as a weapon. That's all.

Birdman or (The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance)

There's nothing here about technique! There's nothing in here about structure! There's nothing in here about intentions! It's just a bunch of crappy opinions, backed up by even crappier comparisons... You write a couple of paragraphs and you know what? None of this cost you fuckin' anything! The Fuck! You risk nothing! Nothing! Nothing! Nothing!

Only Lovers Left Alive

How can you've lived for so long and still not get it? This self obsession is a waste of living. It could be spend in surviving things, appreciating nature, nurturing kindness and friendship, and dancing.

The Grand Budapest Hotel

Rudeness is merely an expression of fear. People fear they won't get what they want.

Crimson Peak

What do you dream on? A kind man?A pure soul to be redeemed? Affection? Affection has no place in love, Edith. I advise you to return to your ghosts and fancies, the sooner the better.


Livros, 2015

Todas as cosmicômicas, Italo Calvino
— Eu. Você, não eu — tentei explicar-lhe por gestos. Ficou contrariada.
— Sim. Você é como eu, mas não de todo igual — corrigi.
Ficou um pouco mais tranquila, mas ainda duvidava.
— Eu, você, juntos, correr correr — tentei dizer-lhe.
Ela rompeu numa gargalhada e saiu correndo.

The Sandman: overture, Neil Gaiman

Americanah, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie
"But of course it makes sense because we are Third Worlders and Third Worlders are forward-looking, we like things to be new, because our best is still ahead, while in the West their best is already past and so they have to make a fetish of that past."

The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao, Junot Diaz
I’m not entirely sure Oscar would have liked this designation. Fukú story. He was a hardcore sci-fi and fantasy man, believed that that was the kind of story we were all living in. He'd ask: What more sci-fi than the Santo Domingo? What more fantasy than the Antilles?

The heart goes last, Margaret Atwood
Oblivion is increasingly attractive to the young, and even to the middle-aged, since why retain your brain when no amount of thinking can even begin to solve the problem?”


Another belief of mine: that everyone else my age is an adult,
whereas I am merely in disguise.
[Margaret Atwood, Cat's eye]

é engraçado (mas não engraçado-haha, o outro engraçado) como isso aqui é um pedaço de tempo congelado. se quero visitar a eu de 10 anos atrás é só entrar na galeria, segurar o meu sigilo e invocar que ela vem correndo, aos pulos. é um fóssil animado, um holograma, uma tecnomagia. se não tivesse servido pra mais nada (e serviu pra muito, serviu pra tudo), o macbitch ia se justificar só por ser minha tardis particular, presa no espaço-tempo de mil kellys.

mas! eis-me aqui de regresso.

pensei que daqui a outros dez anos a eu-futura vai querer saber da eu-agora, e vai ter que fazer arqueologia em outros lugares, talvez menos diretos. (minhas estantes, minhas pastas de fotos, meu tumblr, minha prateleira de temperos). não que aqui seja superdireto. relendo a vida, vejo o quão abstrato pode ser o retrato dela. pouco tem aqui do meu dia a dia, assim, na lata. mas quando eu releio um poema, um reclaminho, um suspiro, qualquer frase obtusa, o reflexo do-que-era me é nítido como uma janela desembaçada aos poucos, a esfregão de dedo.

aí cheguei, de mansinho, como quem entra gelado embaixo da coberta com cuidado pra não acordar outro-alguém. porque a vida merece, pede registro. e como não atender esse pedido? (loud! loud! loud! loud i call to you, my love)