Geerman Appetizer Recipes

summer reading is that one becomes bindweed Novel
















In As part of its writer residence supported by the Region Ile-de-France Pierre Menard decided to put up with the support of Melico, memory of bookstore contemporary a sound work on reading , a series interviews with authors, booksellers, librarians, publishers, journalists, teachers, children, poets, bloggers and readers more generally, followed by reading a page 48 of their favorite book.

This fourth edition of this series is devoted to reading Constance Krebs, editor web
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Editor of the editions from 1997 to 2002, Constance Krebs is editorially independent consultant. A postgraduate degree in comparative literature, she is preparing a doctoral thesis at the University of Paris Tumulte.net III. She contributes to the webmaster and Remue.net site Andre Breton. It has just launched his publishing: Constance Krebs editions. His blog: Amontour.

At what age did you start to read? What is the first book that has impacted you and gave you the joy of reading?

memories of playing there are plenty. For example, in the courtyard of the school where I found Le Clezio's texts there was a place that was completely deserted by the children because it adjoined the village cemetery. Was to the very edge of the village, probably built after the cholera was more in the encirclement of the church was completely out, and so there was a kind of tacit fear of this place, we could not go near the cemetery so we had a royal peace to go read a book and was a bit alone elsewhere. I leaned against a poplar, there was a row of poplars, sitting in the grass, I could read for hours. We went to Rome with my mother, my brother and friend, was the year of the tray for the Christmas holidays. We had a sculptor friend (Frederick Cornflower) that had hosted at home during a winter, which had the Prix de Rome and who had invited us to come to the Villa Medici. So off we went. He had lent us his studio, he went camping in his studio, and at the foot of the bed where I slept there was a Pléiade, which was one of the volumes of the complete works of Faulkner, I do not know which, and there I opened the book a bit random, as was done in seventeen years, and I was completely caught up in "As I Lay Dying" The Sound and the Fury, "" Light in August "," the sanctuary. " It was amazing, because I read it in chunks, without going end because it was too little time to get to the end. But until I read two or three o'clock in the morning and it was extraordinary because it was hosted by the friend who impressed me very much because he was silent because he was very impressive, it's really an exceptional person, a kind of giant sculpture not well in his time and made us discover Rome without saying a word. The night before dinner or after dinner, we passed through streets incredible, completely filthy, with all the misery it can be in Rome, and Ottoman is leading to a sculpture, but he told us there must be close eyes and we need to reach. And then he was working and we were going to walk. We have seen extraordinary things. In crossing the Via Appia, at dusk, there was a shepherd with his flock that passes, it was antediluvian, you had the impression of falling two thousand years ago, and it was elevated, and at the same time the shepherd he paid no attention to the grave. And when I picked the book was there I found this kind of ostentation. Faulkner is bronze, then it's raw and even a force of unprecedented violence, with the harshness of misery, poverty. Faulkner Rome and for me it is totally nested in this visit that gave us Fred. It was extraordinary. I found the book I had taken to account for my trip at the time. In Rome there is the portrait of Faulkner that I copied onto the page. Another amazing thing I tell it on the blog last week. François Bon leaves a message saying I think the Pleiades that you have read, it's mine, because he was at the Villa Medici that winter. It is both fantastic and completely at the same time I think there is no chance either. We are readers, we love books and medium of expression, it does not matter, what matters is the text. And that's what I meant by introducing the moment of reading. These are strong memories, then there Gracq there Kafka ago after Malcolm Lowry, I discovered it this winter. "Somebody threw a dead dog after him down the ravine. "(The final sentence of the Under the Volcano Malcolm Lowry) Le Clézio was easy enough to read at eleven, twelve years without problem, with its haunting repetitions of species like music. It was the feeling of being engulfed. And Faulkner, it's different, it was a nest with a visit to Rome. Because it was winter, because there was the Blueberry vision of Frederick he was trying to convey.

Sound creation and full maintenance to be discovered on the site Melico (Library of Contemporary Memory) .

Monoatomic Gold For Shingles

My Baby Nintendo

Turtles killer of

Psycho-mario

The Ninja Koopas

Gay Cruising Spots On Long Island Ny

Cuckoo

Like last year, tomorrow, Sunday, June 20, the association of shopkeepers in the top of the Faubourg Saint-Martin organizes a picnic giant rue Alexandre Parodi.

tables, chairs, umbrellas will be installed,

Merchants will offer a little something to drink

Minelle will sing his tunes ...

Bring your picnic and sun!

See you tomorrow!

Does Glucosamine Chondroitin Pills Smell, Gnc?

Damn the writers happy

Despite the weather, the workshop begins under the best auspices. At the bookstore Litote head, place of rendezvous, we meet Frederick Forte ( in residence at the bookstore counter words), accompanied by Paul Fournel . And go for walk along the Canal Saint-Martin with a group of fifteen participants, a few regulars and many new ones.


















hard to write while walking, to note what we see, to work as a painter, on the ground. Each of his method. There are those who go ahead and other slower who sit on benches to watch it around them and note their passing impressions.



































This boat, many saw but everyone's point of view to describe or evoke the speed with which he flies away, Once past the lock. And the same remark in these workshops, the attention to things around us, this environment often daily, for once we see, and especially we hear the city noise all around us, deafening.


















A landscape that is familiar to us, that there quietly while walking. Achieving the shorter term and more tense to describe this place, which passes between the outside and what is inside us. A few short words, simple words, see repetitions, repeated over and over so uncertain.

contemplate what we see from the window of a cafe and describe as precisely as possible to show that we can observe. What happens outside even if nothing happens. Then turn around and describe its interior. What one sees at home, or what you think. What we dream, what we hold to heart. Compose his text from one universe to another several times.



































The most amazing thing in the writing workshops outside is that they register the writer, who observed and is listening, he notes that in the urban space in the center of the city and its customizable sounds, its ceaseless flow, and often to meet the people who inquire about what is this group who also wrote in the street. It's kind of hapenning . No wonder then that each of these outputs (see the demonstration at the previous workshop: a place of exhaustion Paris) we cross events. On the banners reads: "Speak up!" What a program ...



































Back to top Bookstore Litote . Featured in the storefront frieze illustrated by the Zau, originally of this writing workshop roaming. You sit in a circle in the middle of the street which is Alexandre Parodi work in recent weeks, a space in front of the library was dedicated (it looks almost to our attention). Each bed to turn his text, struggling a bit against the surrounding noise to be heard, but what counts is to share his experience, walk along the canal, and we keep it.


















Very soon, you can read all the texts written during this meeting, the site of Pierre Menard : Liminal .