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I am the party pooper that immortality has been in effect Sunday

Having just read the two novels the Cebrián included in The new taxidermy (Mondadori, 2011 ) , I wanted to get on my knees as Muslims praying towards Mecca outstretched arms, or as Barça fans when they switch to Xavi. Technically, man, I do not know technically. I am not a technician, I'm a reader. I want books that make me think pajillerías literary workshop, or books in which to learn to hit dead prose as the author believes that the Egyptian pharaohs lived. I am neither the reader nor cultural intellectual reader named Andrew Neuman in The tightrope, one middling, and a more rigorous, searching for data and training as a man of great conversation (idiot, just the data) and invincible to Trivial . I'm more artistic that reader (that give the pharaoh), which read almost confused to write, and perhaps write to read.

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could say, writing is to name all things, or write is to name the world. I say, though perhaps not saying much. It is obvious, or one of those phrases that both hear and say nothing. But we often forget. Or at least I read too many who forget, myself included, of course.

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Both novels included in the book of Cebrián are full of words and expressions to collect, and to use. The first novel, What immortal have been , is a novel of things. The past youth, but from the galaxy of objects that surround you. Reconstructing the past through things. Or the past as a catalog of things that were on our side. About the issue happening. We were what we had. Looks like an attempt, that of the protagonist, to reach the Proustian madeleine, but way. It reminds me faintly Perec's novel I prefer: things.

Perec has become popular among fans of catalogs, to tackle, the psychology of junk that has developed between us both Ramon and partly Solana. But Perec is more scientific, more aware and generally more boring. It is almost a seer, Nostradamus. You see the bubble in which we live Cultureta all later. Life through what we have, above all, culture-bearing objects, are the novels I read, the music we hear, the movies we saw something like culture stores prone to nostalgia.

note Cebrián is pleased to name objects, to know the names of things (ah, trade journals, professional languages, how can make a writer), and that it should be what is normal a quality. Language is a quality, yes, but the literature (but not only). Perhaps by poor digestion of certain authors ("Carver?) good writing tends to be confused with skeletons and diagrams carry anemic reality of language. Reality is, in literature, as it is named. The syntax that you go to each one better is another matter. A room, a single room and a chair, just a chair is no room and no chairs. No, excuse of lazy, no need to fill pages and pages of description. Make no mistake. Dialogue description, dialogue, description, is ultimately the action of those who confuse literature and film scripts. To read, ladies and modern.

But not going out there this book. Excellent prose. L iteratura, finally.

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Nicholas Carr on the Internet and the apocalypse of the brain concentrates: " missed my old brain. "