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Capote e a morte

por jpt, em 16.08.07

Tudo aquilo continuaria, aquelas ondas, aquelas rosas do mar a abrigarem pétalas secas pelo sol na areia. Se eu morrer, tudo isto continuará. E ressentiu-se por isso acontecer.”


(Truman Capote, Travessia de Verão, D. Quixote, 101, tradução de Manuel Cintra)

publicado às 16:40


por jpt, em 17.07.06



"I agree. The men are not appealing. Compared to our women, they seem irrelevant, without character: vin ordinaire. Martinique, you understand, is a matriarchal society. When that is the case, as it is in India, for example, then the men never amount to much." (45-46)

"I see you are looking at my black mirror.I am. My eyes distractedly consult it - are drawn to it against my will, as they sometimes are by the senseless flickerings of an unregulated television set. It has that kind of frivolous power. Therefore I shall overly describe it - in the manner of those "avant-garde" French novelists who, having chosen to discard narrative, character and structure, restrict themselves to page-lenght paragraphs detailing the contours of a single object, the mechanics of an isolated movement: a wall, a white wall with fly meandering across it. So: the object in Madame's drawing room is a black mirror. It is seven inches tall and six inches wide. It is framed within a worn black leather case that is shaped like a book. Indeed, the case is lying open on a table, just as though it were a deluxe edition meant to be picked up and browsed through; but there is nothing there to be read or seen - except the mystery of one's own image projected by the black mirror's surface before it recedes into its endless depths, its corridors or darkness."It belonged", she is explaining, "to Gauguin. You know, of course, that he lived and painted here before he settled among the Polynesians. That was is black mirror. They were a quite common artifact among artists of the last century...""I don't quite understand. What did they use them for?""To refresh their vision. Renew their reaction to color, the tonal variations. After a spell of work, their eyes fatigued, they rested themselves by gazing into these dark mirrors. Just as gourmets at a banquet, between elaborate courses, reawaken their palates with a sorbet de citron."(46-47)
[Truman Capote, "Music for Chameleons", My Side of the Matter, Penguin Books, 2005]

publicado às 16:54



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