Dorota Masłowska
Autore di Snow White and Russian Red
Sull'Autore
Fonte dell'immagine: by Mariusz Kubik
Opere di Dorota Masłowska
Opere correlate
The Wall in My Head: Words and Images from the Fall of the Iron Curtain (2009) — Collaboratore — 54 copie
Etichette
Informazioni generali
- Nome canonico
- Maslowska, Dorota
- Nome legale
- Maslowska, Dorota
- Data di nascita
- 1983-07-03
- Sesso
- female
- Nazionalità
- Poland
- Luogo di nascita
- Wejherowo, Poland
- Luogo di residenza
- Wejherowo, Poland
- Istruzione
- University of Gdansk, Gdansk, Poland (Psychology ∙ unfinished)
University of Warsaw, Warsaw, Poland (Culture Studies ∙ unfinished) - Attività lavorative
- joernaliste
Utenti
Recensioni
Styl Masłowskiej jest, jak zwykle, efektowny, ale nie brakuje potknięć i błędów logicznych. Nie po raz pierwszy mam wrażenie, że jest to zasłona dymna, która ukrywa brak głębi. Autorko, chcesz analizować kulturę niską z pozycji propagatora kultury wysokiej? Upewnij się, że znasz różnicę między 'nota bene' a 'nomen omen'. Dla mnie ta książka to lekkie, łatwe i przyjemne czytadło.
A spunky, drug-addled tale from Poland and a teenage author. That a teenager wrote this book is absolutely mind-boggling to me. I can't wait for what comes next.
Premi e riconoscimenti
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Autori correlati
Statistiche
- Opere
- 23
- Opere correlate
- 1
- Utenti
- 316
- Popolarità
- #74,771
- Voto
- 3.3
- Recensioni
- 7
- ISBN
- 48
- Lingue
- 12
The narration reads tight, just behind your sternum, right behind your eyes and in front of your brain. It’s a fast, bloody picaresque that follows the narrator Nails through a few brutal days, its narration style slipping between persons and time and people addressed. Most characters are treated as isolated, unpredictable, each action interpreted as hostile or overlaid with excess layers of meaning by the leaping associations of the narrator. The consciousness of the narrator comes across impossibly clearly.
I’m not sure what happens at the end of this book: the conscious unreliability of Nails slips into a sort of delusion, and then the last pages happen. The best part by far were the last ten or so pages, entirely different in tone, told by a plural female first person narrator, but read like a prose poem, plot impossible. It was cool, a relief almost, to be free of the hot urgency of Nails, but frustratingly incomprehensible.
… (altro)