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This is a gallery of work specially created for #ThinAir2023. Spend time with writers you love, and discover some new favourites! Ceci est une galerie de travaux spécialement créée pour #ThinAir2023. Passez du temps avec des écrivains que vous aimez et découvrez de nouveaux favoris!Agustina Bazterrica is an Argentinian novelist and short story writer. She is a central figure in the Buenos Aires literary scene. She won the prestigious Premio Clarin Novela for her second novel, Tender Is the Flesh, which has been translated into twenty-five languages. Several of the stories in Nineteen Claws and a Black Bird have also won awards, including First Prize in the 2004/2005 City of Buenos Aires Awards for Unpublished Stories and First Prize in the Edmundo Valadés Awards for the Latin American Short Story, among others.
Interview / Entrevue
In my family they are great readers, there were no prohibited books. But I do remember that once I went on vacation with a distant cousin and her mother didn't want me to read "Lolita" by Nabokov, which was in the library of the apartment she had rented. Of course, I read it anyway, hiding from her and from my cousin who was just as conservative. They wanted me to read romance novels. So, I took those novels to the beach and at night, in the bathroom, I read Lolita.
I think the first paragraph of Shirley Jackson's novel "The Haunting of Hill House" is one of the most perfect paragraphs ever written. There is a philosophical approach, there is tension, an enigma and it introduces the main character of the novel, all of this in a few lines.
“No live organism can continue for long to exist sanely under conditions of absolute reality; even larks and katydids are supposed, by some, to dream. Hill House, not sane, stood by itself against its hills, holding darkness within; it had stood so for eighty years and might stand for eighty more. Within, walls continued upright, bricks met nearly, floors were firm, and doors were sensibly shut; silence lay steadily against the wood and stone of Hill House, and whatever walked there, walked alone.”
My desk is always tidy, even though the number of books I have are already taking up impossible spaces. It is a tide that does not stop advancing and I will be very happy when I drown in it.
No worries, just my cats. They wake me up every night but I love them and I am their eternal slave. Plus, nightmares about vampires where I'm a human serving them. Any relationship between my dream and my cats? Freud, we need your help.
Being able to see ghosts. For now, I only felt them, but I aspire to be able to see them.
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