Esattamente 6 mesi fa, il primo ottobre 2009, mi sono fracassato il braccio facendo a ruzzoloni quella scala lì a sinistra. La fisioterapia procede, lentamente ma con discreti risultati, e in tutta sincerità comincio ad averne un po' le palle piene di avere il braccio destro a mezzo servizio (e anche qualcosa meno). Vabbè. La prossima volta imparo.
I completely subscribe to the idiom " Dont judge a book by its cover ": over the years I often read wonderful books with horrible covers , less often horrible books with wonderful covers , and everything in beetween. Sometimes, though, a particularly good cover made me discover a book I wouldn't otherwise have considered, as happened in this case. I'm not really sure why, but this cover for Never Let Me Go struck a chord with me, and even if I had barely heard about the author Kazuo Ishiguro, and not at all about the book, I read it. And I loved it. I don't want to spoil anything about the plot, moreso because the whole book is written as a slow, gradual unveiling of the story of the protagonist/narrator, the people around her, and the (apparently) normal world in which they live, and part of its allure is exactly following Kathy's pace in remembering her life, with all her infinite and (apparently) meaningless digressions. I'll just repeat here what I wr...
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