A spellbinding novel that places one family's tragedies against the uncontainable life force of the land itself. Near a village high in the Pyrenees, Domènec wanders across a ridge, fancying himself more a poet than a farmer, to "reel off his verses over on this side of the mountain." He gathers black chanterelles and attends to a troubled cow. And then storm clouds swell, full of electrifying power. Reckless, gleeful, they release their bolts of lightning, one of which strikes Domènec. He dies. The ghosts of seventeenth-century witches gather around him, taking up the chanterelles he'd harvested before going on their merry ways. So begins this novel that is as much about the mountains and the mushrooms as it is about the human dramas that unfold in their midst. When I Sing, Mountains Dance, winner of the European Union Prize, is a giddy paean to the land in all its interconnectedness, and in it Irene Solà finds a distinct voice for each extraordinary consciousness: the lightning bolts, roe-deer, mountains, the ghosts of the civil war, the widow Sió and later her grown children, Hilari and Mia, as well as Mia's lovers with their long-buried secrets and their hidden pain. Solà animates the polyphonic world around us, the fierce music of the seasons, as well as the stories we tell to comprehend loss and love on a personal, historical, and even geological scale. Lyrical, elemental, and mythic, hers is a fearlessly imaginative new voice that brilliantly renders both our tragedies and our triumphs.… (más)
Pirinioetan bizi –eta hiltzen, edo hilik bizi– dira eleberri honetan hitz egiten digutenak. Ekaitzeko hodeiak mintzo zaizkigu, eta oinaztarria, eta heriotzan murgilduko den nekazari poeta ere mintzo zaigu, guri eta lurrari. Eta mintzo zaigu, baita ere, orduz geroztik seme-alabak baka-rrik hezi beharko dituen alargun gaztea. Eta sorgin deklaratu ondoren urkatu zituzten lau emakumeak mintzo zaizkigu. Eta mendiak, eta perretxikoak, gizonezkoak eta emakumezkoak, eta mamuak, eta laminak, eta maitagarriak, orkatzak, txakurrak…
Lurra bera mintzo zaigu, noizbait mendiez erditu zen lur hori bera.
Mendi ikaragarri horiek mendetan ezagutu dituzte bertakoen bizimodu latza eta haien amodioak; ezagutu dituzte jazarpenak, ihesak, gerrak, gorrotoak. Mugako bizitza. Eta eder ageri zaizkigu beti; are ederragoak Irene Solà bezalako kontalari peto batek kontatzearen plazeraren oparia egiten digunean. Sen berezia darion begiratzeko eta kontatzeko modu teluriko batean, emakumezkoenak baitira eleberriko ahots guztiz gehienak. Akaso emakume baten eskutik soilik posible litzatekeen ikuskera baten arabera ehunduak.
Información procedente del Conocimiento común alemán.Edita para encontrar en tu idioma.
... wer würde da glauben, dass dieses grasige friedliche Tal die Geschichte unseres früheren Lebens in sich birgt; und dessen Gespenster? ... (aus Halldór Laxness: Sein eigener Herr)
Información procedente del Conocimiento común alemán.Edita para encontrar en tu idioma.
[Der Schuss] fällt wie alles Schlimme, das auf der Welt geschieht, und solange es einem nicht selbst geschieht, ies es, als wäre es nicht geschehen. (S. 51)
Und als ich genesen war und wieder zu mir kam, dann sterben und genesen ist manchmal dasselbe, kehrte ich zurück in die Berge. (S. 87)
Der Wald hat Mama nicht gewollt. Er hat sie mir zurückgegeben, damit ich sie pflegte, weil sie krank und ihr Kopf wie die Schublade eines Schneiders war, vollgestopft mit zusammenhanglosen, unsortierten Erinnerungsfetzen.
(S. 193)
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Información procedente del Conocimiento común alemán.Edita para encontrar en tu idioma.
A spellbinding novel that places one family's tragedies against the uncontainable life force of the land itself. Near a village high in the Pyrenees, Domènec wanders across a ridge, fancying himself more a poet than a farmer, to "reel off his verses over on this side of the mountain." He gathers black chanterelles and attends to a troubled cow. And then storm clouds swell, full of electrifying power. Reckless, gleeful, they release their bolts of lightning, one of which strikes Domènec. He dies. The ghosts of seventeenth-century witches gather around him, taking up the chanterelles he'd harvested before going on their merry ways. So begins this novel that is as much about the mountains and the mushrooms as it is about the human dramas that unfold in their midst. When I Sing, Mountains Dance, winner of the European Union Prize, is a giddy paean to the land in all its interconnectedness, and in it Irene Solà finds a distinct voice for each extraordinary consciousness: the lightning bolts, roe-deer, mountains, the ghosts of the civil war, the widow Sió and later her grown children, Hilari and Mia, as well as Mia's lovers with their long-buried secrets and their hidden pain. Solà animates the polyphonic world around us, the fierce music of the seasons, as well as the stories we tell to comprehend loss and love on a personal, historical, and even geological scale. Lyrical, elemental, and mythic, hers is a fearlessly imaginative new voice that brilliantly renders both our tragedies and our triumphs.
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Lurra bera mintzo zaigu, noizbait mendiez erditu zen lur hori bera.
Mendi ikaragarri horiek mendetan ezagutu dituzte bertakoen bizimodu latza eta haien amodioak; ezagutu dituzte jazarpenak, ihesak, gerrak, gorrotoak. Mugako bizitza. Eta eder ageri zaizkigu beti; are ederragoak Irene Solà bezalako kontalari peto batek kontatzearen plazeraren oparia egiten digunean. Sen berezia darion begiratzeko eta kontatzeko modu teluriko batean, emakumezkoenak baitira eleberriko ahots guztiz gehienak. Akaso emakume baten eskutik soilik posible litzatekeen ikuskera baten arabera ehunduak.