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Sto caricando le informazioni... Il libro dell'inquietudine di Bernardo Soares (1982)di Fernando Pessoa
  
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 Iscriviti per consentire a LibraryThing di scoprire se ti piacerà questo libro. Attualmente non vi sono conversazioni su questo libro. Una importante laguna en el conocimiento de uno de los mayores poetas europeos de nuestro tiempo ha sido colmada con la publicación...  socogarv | Feb 14, 2021 |  El libro del desasosiego es como una recopilación de un diario, o una autobiografía de varios autores sin estar sus partes fechadas. Las frases más difundidas de su libro son; “Se siente tristeza ser uno y al mismo tiempo algo externo”; “no he dejado a Dios, no he aceptado al humanidad”; “No he fingido, me han fingido, fui sus gestos”; “No existe el sosiego”; “Una puesta de sol es algo del intelecto”. “Poseer una opinión es hacer poesía”. anitagustade | Jan 29, 2021 | M.3.4 David.llib.cat | Nov 7, 2020 | Less than halfway through his bundle of tedium, Pessoa says "Let the plotless novel come to an end" If only … Instead, Pessoa moans on and on for another half of his eternity. It wouldn’t be so bad but Pessoa himself undermines his own work by attempting to dismantle such commonly held (and therefore suspect?) beliefs such as truth and opinion. Anyone who takes him seriously would therefore have to dismiss anything he says as worthless. I didn’t need to be forced. It has been compared to Musil’s epic Man Without Qualities. That’s a stretch. Yes, they’re both authors focussed on how we cope with the tragedy of being human, but at least Musil can do more than have his protagonist stare out of a window. Whereas Musil was a master of satire, Pessoa is a master of misery. Nothing is really praiseworthy, nothing is really beautiful, and nothing is really worth it in the end. Had we only The Book of Disquiet to inform our lives, there really wouldn’t be any point in going any further. Thankfully for us all, we have. (  ) arukiyomi | Sep 11, 2020 | This is a slog for me. I did not enjoy it as a novel because it is not a novel. It is a collections of one man's thoughts. Fernando Pessoa is a Portuguese man and this so called book was published posthumously. Yes there are some interesting sentences, prose, but it is not a novel. It used up an entire month which I can only regret. This man may have been deeply depressed and I can only think that his family wants to make money off his writings. I am not sure the man would have wanted it published. Some quotes; 1. Each autumn that comes brings us closer to what will be our last autumn; 2. How am I to know what evils I may cause when I give alms, or if I attempt to educate or instruct? In case of doubt, I abstain. I believe, moreover, that to help or clarify is, in a way, to commit the evil of intervening in someone else’s life. 3. Yes, tedium is boredom with the world, the malaise of living, the weariness of having lived; in truth, tedium is the feeling in one’s flesh of the endless emptiness of things. This book is "tedium". I will not go back to read this though I could see using it to find some great quotes perhaps. Rating is less than 1 star but slightly more than 0. (  ) Kristelh | Aug 31, 2020 |
 In addition to the size and the disorder of the Pessoa archive, there is another confounding level of complexity: it is, in a sense, the work of many writers. In his manuscripts, and even in personal correspondence, Pessoa attributed much of his best writing to various fictional alter egos, which he called “heteronyms.” Scholars have tabulated as many as seventy-two of these. His love of invented names began early: at the age of six, he wrote letters under the French name Chevalier de Pas, and soon moved on to English personae such as Alexander Search and Charles Robert Anon. But the major heteronyms he used in his mature work were more than jokey code names. They were fully fledged characters, endowed with their own biographies, philosophies, and literary styles. Pessoa even imagined encounters among them, and allowed them to comment on one another’s work. If he was empty, as he liked to claim, it was not the emptiness of a void but of a stage, where these selves could meet and interact. Pessoa was mostly a poet and The Book of Disquiet can be read, if you wish, as a series of notes for poems as yet unwritten; or prose poems, of a kind, themselves. If all this sounds rather vague then that is because Pessoa wished it so. To read and then contemplate him is to be lifted a little bit above the earth in a floating bubble. One becomes both of the world and not of it. There's no one like him, apart from all of us. Here in the famously striving city I’d been infected by a book whose credo, if it has one, is that “Inaction is our consolation for everything, not acting our one great provider.” ... Reading a page or two a day, I would find myself curiously preoccupied along certain lines for a week or more—weird: in the sunlight I’d been thinking constantly of rain—and then the topic would change and, like a spell of weather, move on. Appartiene alle Collane EditorialiÈ contenuto inContieneÈ riassunto in
In the middle of the conversations with myself that make up this book, I often feel a sudden need to talk to someone else, so I address the light hovering, as it does now, above the roofs of houses...' Seated at his desk in the Lisbon's Rua Dos Douradores, Bernardo Soares, an assistant book-keeper, writes his diary - a self-deprecating reflection on the sheer distance between the loftiness of his feelings and the humdrum reality of his everyday life. This is the first translation of a classic of existential literature - a book acknowledged by the critics as 'the most beautiful diary of the century. Non sono state trovate descrizioni di biblioteche 
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