An elegant, twilight meditation on literature, which, already aware of its own mortality and limits in the face of pain, finds its dignity when it inhabits the ruins of language and memory.
The disintegration of libraries in Havana as a symptom of other things in the country.
The library is a refuge for unfulfilled desires, renewed readings, and losses due to exile, intertwining literary ambition, writerly vanity, and cultural fragility.
The library, that labyrinth of knowledge and aesthetic pleasure, reflects the insatiable curiosity and chaotic order of a life devoted to reading.
Book collecting is an intimate and symbolic practice which, by valuing each book as a unique object with its own material biography, turns the library into a sensory autobiography of the collector.
First chronicle of the most bibliophile of flâneurs. Today, on the streets of Lisbon.
An exploration of the library as a reflection of the human spirit, where order and chaos, metaphysics and aesthetics intertwine, proposing a lived reading and a resistance to sterile fetishism.
Benoît Peeters’ biography traces an oblique map of Valéry, who turned consciousness into interior architecture, oscillating between clarity of thought and the uncomfortable tenderness of a body that doubts, desires, and ages.
The personal library as a portable and sentimental homeland, especially for the displaced writer who carries his books and objects like fragments of identity.
I read to save myself. I read everything, Greek theater and Sholokhov’s trash. Marcel Proust and the terrifying Chapaiev.
