Otros libros que te pueden interesar

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  Beowulf

  Lesslie Hall

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  Heroes rise. Monsters awaken. Legends endure. 
   
  In Beowulf, translated by Lesslie Hall, listeners are transported into one of the oldest and most influential epic tales in English literature. Filled with fierce battles, monstrous foes, ancient kingdoms, and themes of courage, honor, and fate, this timeless saga follows the legendary warrior Beowulf as he faces terrifying enemies to protect both people and legacy. 
   
  Steeped in mythic atmosphere and heroic storytelling, Beowulf remains a cornerstone of epic fantasy and literary history, inspiring generations of stories centered on warriors, monsters, and the struggle between light and darkness. 
   
  Powerfully narrated by Paul Landergan, this audiobook brings cinematic intensity and emotional depth to one of literature’s greatest heroic epics.

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  The Ruins of Nostalgia

  Donna Stonecipher

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  What is it to feel nostalgia, to be skeptical of it yet cleave intently to the complex truths of feeling and thought? In a series of 64 gorgeous, ramifying, unsettling prose poems addressing late-twentieth- and twenty-first century experience and its discontents, The Ruins of Nostalgia offers a strikingly original exploration of the misunderstood phenomenon of nostalgia as both feeling-state and historical phenomenon. Each poem, also titled The Ruins of Nostalgia, is a kind of lyrical mini-essay, playful, passionate, analytic. Some poems take a location, memory, conceit, or object as their theme. Throughout the series, the poems recognize and celebrate the nostalgias they ironize, which are in turn celebrated and then ironized again. Written often in the fictional persona of the first-person plural, The Ruins of Nostalgia explores the rich territory where individual response meets a collective phenomenon.[sample poem]The Ruins of Nostalgia 13Where once there had been a low-end stationery store minded by an elderly beauty queen, there was now a store for high-end espresso machines minded by nobody. Where once there had been an illegal beer garden in a weedy lot, there was now a complex of luxury lofts with Parisian-style ivory façades. Where once there had been a bookstore and a bike shop and a bakery, there was now a wax museum for tourists. Where once there had been an empty lot there was now a building. Where once there had been an empty lot there was now a building. Where once there had been an empty lot there was now a building. Where once there had been an empty lot there was now a building. Where once there had been farms there were now subdivisions. Where once there had been subdivisions there were now sub-subdivisions. We lived in a sub-subdivision of a subdivision. We ourselves had become subdivided—where once we had merely been of two minds. * Where once there had been a river there was now a road. A vocal local group had started a movement to break up the road and "daylight" the river, which still flowed, in the dark, underneath the road. * Could we daylight the farms, the empty lots, the stationery store, the elderly beauty queen, the city we moved to? Was it still flowing somewhere, under the luxury lofts, deliquescing in the dark, inhabited by our luxury selves, not yet subdivided, because not yet whole? * Could we daylight the ruins of nostalgia?

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  Certain Shelter

  Abbie Kiefer

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  Abbie Kiefer’s debut collection is a clear-eyed portrait of an aging mill town and a larger reflection on memory, making, and the significance of home. What sources of solace and stability remain amid the ruins of industry, after the death of a parent, while raising children in an uncertain time alongside the ghosts of the past? How do we reconcile ourselves to the inevitability of change and protect what remains? A transcendent exploration of breakdown and renewal, of vulnerability and endurance, of personal and communal responses to loss, this book takes up the question of how to find shelter and make one’s way in an altered world. 

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  Atlantis - From their pens to...

  Hart Crane

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  Harold Hart Crane was born on the 21st July 1899 in Garrettsville, Ohio. 
  Crane was drawn to literature at an early age, becoming a voracious reader and pursuing self-education rather than attach himself to a more formal college education, although he did attend East High School in 1913.  His developing love of poetry was nurtured with the works of the English Romantics and the French Symbolists, as well as near contemporary American poets. 
  Much of his youth was spent shuttling between Cleveland and New York as his parents’ marriage descended into continuing conflict before they separated with Crane still in his teens.  Shortly after Crane attempted to enlist in the U S Military but was rejected for being a minor. 
  His first published poem also came in 1917 with ‘C33’ and its reference to the cell number that Oscar Wilde was incarcerated in. 
  Crane now centred more of his time in New York and immersed himself in the vibrant artistic scene of Greenwich Village.  Alongside this he dabbled in various jobs to support himself, including copywriting and work in a munitions factory, as he continued to develop his ambitions for a poetic career.   
  His early work was already being noticed for its lush and rich use of words and by the time ‘White Buildings’ was published in 1926 he was being critically acclaimed. 
  Despite this success his personal life was troubled.  It was both nourishing his work and fuelling complex patterns of despair as he sought to establish his identity.  In a time when homosexuality was openly condemned his openly gay attitude sat uneasily as he pursued relationships that were both intense and emotionally fraught. 
  His acclaimed work ‘The Bridge’ in 1930 was both ambitious and a foundation stone for new American poetry.  Against this his battles with depression and alcoholism were being lost. 
  Hart Crane died on the 27th April 1932 by jumping from the deck of a steamship into the Gulf of Mexico upon his return to the United States.  He was 32.

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  Catastrophic Molting

  Amy Shimshon-Santo

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  CATASTROPHIC MOLTING (FlowerSong Press) Amy Shimshon-Santo uses the tools of language to remind readers there is power in repudiation, comfort in collective mourning, and possibility in reimagining. The book title is inspired by the molting ritual of sea elephants (Mirounga Angustirostris) along the California coast. The mirounga rest together on the shore as social protection from violence when they are the most vulnerable. Only through these periods of dramatic change can they grow sleek new coats. The book’s journey begins with “Contagion,” revealing a world split in half like a calabash by a virus. “Beating, trembling,” a woman pleads for mercy while the poems confront the liminality of profound change. “A new cycle had begun / I would never be the same again.” The second section, Sangue, gives voice to mourning and rage. “when you murder the future of music / you are conjuring extinction.” Dysfunction on planet Earth reverberates from the street into the expansive galaxy. Refusing to normalize violence, the poet gathers war inside her own body to detonate it, then blows “tsunami-wind / to rattle clear the desks.” With the verve of Oya, the goddess of ancestral and radical change, the book claims ground for empathy and inter-being. The collection asks readers to imagine: “what if we were a part of a whole / that loved us without ceasing?” Catastrophic Molting breaks from inertia and seeks new ground. Our “foremothers greet the unborn” and are “betrothed to a story that doesn’t wish us dead.” Shimshon-Santo suggests that “stepping off might actually be, stepping in / turning away might actually be, turning toward.”

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  Furthermore - The Collected...

  Bill Stokes

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  A helicopter falls when it loses its Jesus Nut. A monkey trap holds only what greed refuses to release. A Tea Rose ignores winter's grip and opens anyway, then spends its days raining petals. Bill Stokes has spent a lifetime watching. He has stood at the bedside of memory as it slips away. He has walked the rows of veterans' graves, coin in hand. He has felt the rear-end collision that came from choosing a child's life over his own spine. He has listened to the trees. Furthermore: The Collected Wisdom of a Keeper of Words is what a Wisdom Keeper does when he finally writes it all down — not to explain the human condition, but to hand it to you so you can feel the weight of it yourself.

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