Morio Kita (1927–2011)
Autor/a de The House of Nire
Sobre l'autor
Crèdit de la imatge: Morio Kita (c.1960) By 旺文社 撮影者不明 - 旺文社『高校時代』10月号(1960), Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=56277060
Obres de Morio Kita
The Red Ghost and the White Ghost: Stories and Essays by Kita Morio (Cornell East Asia Series) (2018) 3 exemplars
星のない街路 2 exemplars
Um Hospício no Japão 1 exemplars
The Empty Field {short story} 1 exemplars
Dokutoru Manbó Konchúki (どくとるマンボウ昆虫記) 1 exemplars
Dokutoru Manbó Kókaiki (どくとるマンボウ航海記) 1 exemplars
Boku no ojisan (ぼくのおじさん) 1 exemplars
Sabishí ósama (さびしい王様) 1 exemplars
怪盗ジバゴ (1967年) 1 exemplars
遙かな国 遠い国 1 exemplars
Obres associades
Etiquetat
Coneixement comú
- Nom normalitzat
- Kita, Morio
- Nom oficial
- Sōkichi, Saitō
- Data de naixement
- 1927-05-01
- Data de defunció
- 2011-10-24
- Gènere
- male
- Nacionalitat
- Japan
Membres
Ressenyes
Premis
Potser també t'agrada
Autors associats
Estadístiques
- Obres
- 47
- També de
- 2
- Membres
- 231
- Popularitat
- #97,643
- Valoració
- 3.7
- Ressenyes
- 3
- ISBN
- 49
- Llengües
- 2
To give you an idea of the extended metaphors and exquisite tension in the book, here is my favorite passage:
I often thought, when I was small, how I would at last be accepted by people when I was grown up, too, but now I was actually approaching that age my sense of alienation from them all became, if anything, even deeper. Trying to ignore the heaviness in my head, I walked faster, feeling like a puppet under somebody's else's control. I remembered having this feeling once before. It was like a child flying a kite, so passionately absorbed in it that he goes on until the light begins to fade, even though he's terrified of the dark. The kite is about as big as he is, and the cold wind tugs at his collar; and then he notices the world about him and begins to drag down the kite, floating high up in the sky. With one eye on the darkness gradually closing in, he feverishly winds and winds the string. The string tangles, caught perhaps in the withered grass of the wide field, but he goes on winding and winding without end, and the string keeps appearing endlessly out of the surrounding dark. He bites his lip to hold back the tears and he keeps on winding, urgently, despairingly, almost as if the string were moving him. And I felt the same thing now, when all that mattered was to keep on moving, moving one's arms and legs.
By sinking in with this novel, you will gain a sense of impending death, which surrounds the main character like a dark fog. Due to the similarities between this work and the setting of The House of Nire, I think it is safe to conclude that they are both to some degree autobiographical. If you like Anaiis Nin, you will get some of the same feeling from immersing yourself in this book. I would rank this book very highly and greatly look forward to embarking on reading the monolithic House of Nire soon.… (més)