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ivaspinoza · 5 hours
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I've never read anything quite like Fever Dream. I couldn't understand a lot of it as I read, although I do understand the characters and plot overall. In each moment, did you understand what was happening? What did you find profound? What did you like best artistically about it, and were there any big philosophical statements?
What a cool, exciting ask! I love this book, I wrote a 6-page essay about it for college at the time and I was never able to read it again because of how strong the experience was for me (I want to preserve the memory).
Latin America's magical realism is not about introducing some fantasy features into the ordinary, is more about the mystical experience of reality itself, the haunting mysteries or inexplicable events of life. They exaggerate the surreal, "magical" aspect to highlight the main issue. I will share more about that in the end.
What I like about Fever Dream the most is its originality. Once you start the book, you have to feel lost. That's the whole point. Schweblin is so bold, she actually doesn't want you to "understand what is going on", she invites you into the MC's feverish dream, and for that to happen you literally have to let go of any expectations and let the story unfold at its own pace. I honestly will recommend this book to any writer who is willing to take the (eco)horror path.
But it's not just about that. Personally, this book got to me because of the "rescue distance" concept — a better translation of the original title. As someone who lost a baby, the whole paranoia that comes from sensing danger, but being blind to it at the same time, drove me almost mad. I ate that book in one afternoon — and I'm a slow reader. Couldn't stop turning pages. It was too similar to my personal experience of foreseeing death, knowing that something was just about to happen, and not being able to avoid it at all. Very cathartic, per se.
But to talk more directly about the book, I will use my own words from a few years back, and if you don't want spoilers, don't read it:
"In the end, the loose thread remains. The feeling of loss is inevitable. All the danger and sense of paranoia culminated in a whirlwind of unstoppable events, engulfing the reader in a tachycardic, spiralling route; and he lands with the certainty that something very important was left behind: the essential and irreplaceable — perhaps, life itself. It's like returning from a trip without your luggage, empty-handed. Maybe this loose thread is the sensation of the entire humanity when confronted with its impotence in the face of a scenario of constant catastrophe, of destruction that disintegrates everything around: the web being woven as one lives, without being able to deviate from the tracks or turn back. The inevitability of evil — are we like Amanda, doing our best to protect those we love, and always losing what matters most? What similarity would we have with David, tying everything in his room (p.136), trying to connect the loose thread of this unreachable distance that can no longer be calculated? He may be trying to connect with what little remains, that which seems solid, in search of connecting then with something familiar; something that sustains a world that seems to be in free fall, heading nowhere. And this world — this same world of mutations, poisoned mist, dead ducks buried in the backyard, of silence that devoured all things, this world of Schweblin's magical realism — this is our own world."
I might upload my reviews and essays one day if I ever have enough energy and time to open a substack or something (they are too long). Latin American literature is fire! I'm glad you have this book a chance :) and thanks again for the ask!
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ivaspinoza · 6 hours
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quite enjoying taking my saturday to answer asks and talk to you. hopefully, this will become a thing.
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ivaspinoza · 6 hours
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List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who liked or reblogged something from you! Get to know your mutuals and followers ❤️
@informedimagining asked me this one too, thank you both :)
I'm not listing the obvious, though, like people I love, writing... Both me and you know those so I'm focusing on things.
Candles and lampshades.
Tiny objects. I love tiny things. They do something wild with my brain. Everything mini makes me smile, even sprouts (baby cabbages, I mean).
Vintage and antique. It's just warm. Memory. Time that you can touch. I love a good antique shop. Antique postcards with handwritten stuff. Old cutlery sets, especially silver spoons. Old books. Old tins, oh my gosh, tins just make me so happy.
Soap. Homemade, weirdly shaped soaps. Bonus if it's frankincense.
Bowls. What the fuck are plates, anyways?
Fun fact: once my husband notices something makes me happy, he will buy at least 40 different versions of it. sometimes i pretend i don't even like something that much (because i can be quite excited at the moment and then just forget about it), but if he sees my eyes shining (and he is very observant), before i can blink he is buying it. hide this list, people. we have too many soaps, candles and bowls.
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ivaspinoza · 6 hours
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hello fellow 30-something here 🙋how hard it is for u to make friends online ? bc I feel like it's hard when we're not 18 or 20 and it gets harder with age. have u made friends here ?
hello :)
i guess by the time we are 30, we learn that we don't have to be loved and understood by everyone. the right people come as your self-knowledge and self-respect grow, and as you stay in your path. i think our concepts about relationships and priorities change. many people leave because they are not supposed to stay, and that is also okay.
i've made a few friends here and they know who they are and how much i cherish our relationship. in my opinion, friendship is never something to be forced, but a connection you recognize and then decide to be intentional about it.
last but not least, we have some important moments in life where we actually have to be alone. so if you're finding it very hard, maybe that is your lonely season, and all i can say is for you to focus on yourself and then things will happen when it's time for them to happen.
lots of love to you!
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ivaspinoza · 7 hours
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Get attacked!! ✨🌈SEND THIS TO OTHER BLOGGERS YOU THINK ARE WONDERFUL. KEEP THE GAME GOING🌈
<3 <3 <3 yeehaaw let's go! i'm so happy i found your blog
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ivaspinoza · 7 hours
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Get attacked!! ✨🌈SEND THIS TO OTHER BLOGGERS YOU THINK ARE WONDERFUL. KEEP THE GAME GOING🌈
(ma'am you can't just send me that and not expect me to send it back)
ma'am I'm counting down the days for invading bookshops with you
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ivaspinoza · 7 hours
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Uhhh the game is changing now hehehe anxious to see the end of this thing!
almost 180 followers here!
hey you, i'm glad you're here. i've been on tumblr since 2011, but it was all silence and reblogs until now. after a violent return to writing this year, i'm very grateful for connecting to other writers and poets and i just want to say how much i appreciate you all, my friends!
if i ever hit 200 (who knows) what should i do to celebrate?
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ivaspinoza · 8 hours
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@cssnder in another epoque, a twin soul of yours send me a message through time
A Poet is a nightingale who sits in darkness, and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds
-Percy Bysshe Shelley
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ivaspinoza · 18 hours
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Time is a Mirror
As the clock tick-tacks and sand runs through my hands, muscles, veins
That old thirst comes and goes in waves, cascades, what a shame:
A hug without arms, a look without lenses, the whole traffic stopped to see
What life was like when you're not here, when I'm feeding on destilated absence
In the mirror your image, unborn flower of spring, so delicate
So thin, in your time, the fingerprints, and in that last letter, all my sins
Things we wish were unseen, forgiven
Like the day I left behind the most important thing
Time doesn't clock back, but memories and what ifs do clock in
They create roots and later spread like weed
Through the land of your heart, and the land of your misery
What would a poet be, without poetry? What would a writer do without words to eat
What am I without you in this foreign world that sometimes means nothing to me
Shall we still pursue beauty? At what cost! I forgot how to weave stories
Now I just weave feelings and interdimensional sober experiences
I only taste the savoury, never the sweetness
I get drowned in dryness and interrupt life's fertile wetness
The natural design, the intelligent patterns of creation, the mirror or time
So hauntingly unforgiving
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ivaspinoza · 1 day
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for souls that pursue the intangible (and enjoy choirs)
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ivaspinoza · 1 day
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"i wish i could exfoliate my brain" you can. by reading things that challenge you.
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ivaspinoza · 1 day
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@wowpoetrycool
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ivaspinoza · 2 days
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Ferdinand Keller - Pond with swans at dusk (1899)
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ivaspinoza · 2 days
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Get attacked!! ✨🌈SEND THIS TO OTHER BLOGGERS YOU THINK ARE WONDERFUL. KEEP THE GAME GOING🌈
ATTACK (thanks lovely, i also think your blog is wonderful!)
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ivaspinoza · 2 days
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Stuck in Osi and The Jupiter's new album for quite some time now.
Go for this amazing artist if you are into Nordic vibes, haunted forests or amazing guitar work; dark blues, low country and melancholic atmospheres; or "death is just around the corner but I don't care" type of feeling; if you like a beautiful aching voice with fascinating melodies.
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ivaspinoza · 2 days
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Strongly recommend the original version by Claude Ely as well.
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The tomb of a pastor's wife and stillborn child in a church in Hindelbank, Switzerland, 1751, depicting their resurrection.
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ivaspinoza · 2 days
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Is there any interaction with a stranger recently that sticks in your mind? Or if not, a stranger you saw that you still remember for some reason? Also do you think you could beat me in a fist fight?
I've had such cool asks lately, and I do want to answer them all, but time is not on my side. Patience! What can a modern human being do besides getting angry at the Industrial Revolution at this point? And listen to some delta blues, I mean...
Let's go to the ask of the day, made by my beloved friend. I have a story for you related to faith.
Firstly, I absolutely can not beat you or anyone in a fist fight. Maybe if I get angry enough I could? I used to think I could never be violent until I've been through some shit that showed me why some people get violent. Not advocating for it at all, just saying it's a possibility for every human. That would never happen with you, though, because you're an angel.
As for a stranger's story, I must say: not only my memory is bad, but I am distracted all the time, so I rarely remember these situations. However, the other day, I was sitting on a bench downtown when this homeless man walked into me, asking for money. It was a very fortunate timing, for I was about to ask for a car and, "for some reason", I just waited a little longer — just enough for him to pass by and talk to me.
Well, I've seen lots of things in the streets, some really dangerous, some really sad, but this guy was not about to cause any trouble. He told me his story while I went through my purse. Not a single coin! I asked if he smoked and offered to roll him a cigarette. He almost cried: "Would you do that for me?"
At some point, he just went: "I can't blame anyone, not even God, for my life. It's bad choices I made, and the only reason I'm living through this hell is... me."
So I told him about my awful choices as well. I told him about my God and what He did for me. About forgiveness, about His Son on the cross, and then alive. He cried, asking if someone like him could have a second chance. "Jesus walked among sinners like us for a reason", I told him. "We make the wrong choices, but he doesn't".
"I could never get inside a church", he said, "but I guess God took you down here to talk to me!" If he only knew that a church is not a building... But I had no time to explain that. We prayed, we cried, and told me he believed. In fact, the most important thing he said was: "I don't know what happened, I really don't, but I met you as one person, and I'm leaving you a totally different one."
Of course, it was not me. I truly think that guy was born again on the spot. I've seen it happen a few times by now and there is this distinguished atmosphere about it. Not only that, but also a unique smell and taste that I feel at the back of my mouth. It's not something easy to explain, as it is truly supernatural. Although I have had many experiences, this one was remarkable. I still remember his eyes, shining, so full of life.
I met a stranger, but he was my brother. I don't think I will forget that at any time soon.
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