Reviews for Los Encantos De La Culpa (Large Print Edition)

The average rating for Los Encantos De La Culpa (Large Print Edition) based on 2 reviews is 4.5 stars.

Review # 1 was written on 2015-12-20 00:00:00 Scott Steinfeld Vildanden = The Wild Duck, Henrik Ibsen The Wild Duck an 1884 play, by the Norwegian playwright: Henrik Ibsen. Characters: Håkon Werle, a wholesale merchant; Gregers Werle, his son; Old Ekdal, the former business partner of Håkon Werle; Hjalmar Ekdal, Old Ekdal's son, a photographer; Gina Ekdal, his wife; Hedvig, their daughter, aged fourteen; Mrs. Sørby, housekeeper and fiancee of Håkon Werle; Relling, a doctor, lives below the Ekdals; Molvik, formerly a student of theology, lives below the Ekdals; Pettersen, servant to Håkon Werle; Jensen, a hired waiter; Mr. Balle, a dinner guest; Mr. Flor, a dinner guest. عنوانها: مرغابی وحشی: همراه با مقدمه در باره ایبسن و رئالیسم؛ مرغابی وحشی: تراژدی در پنج پرده؛ اردک وحشی؛ نویسنده: هنریک ایبسن؛ تاریخ نخستین خوانش: روز بیست و یکم ماه دسامبر سال 1994 میلادی عنوان: مرغابی وحشی: همراه با مقدمه در باره ایبسن و رئالیسم؛ نویسنده: هنریک ایبسن؛ مترجم: بهزاد قادری؛ یدالله آقاعباسی؛ تهران، مرکز هنرهای نمایشی، 1372، در 207 ص؛ چاپهای بعدی در سال 1387، نشر نغمه زندگی؛ در 176 ص؛ و در تهران، بیدگل، 1394، در 2222 ص، شابک: 9786007806173؛ موضوع: نمایشنامه های نویسندگان نروژی - سده 19 م عنوان: مرغابی وحشی: تراژدی در پنج پرده؛ نویسنده: هنریک ایبسن؛ مترجم: اصغر رستگار؛ تهران، نشر فردا، 1379، در 174 ص؛ شابک: ایکس - 964632830؛ عنوان: اردک وحشی؛ نویسنده: هنریک ایبسن؛ مترجم: منوچهر انور؛ تهران: کارنامه‏‫، 1396؛ در 227 ص؛ شابک: 9789644310935؛‬ سه‌ اصل‌:عقل و احساس، نماد و واقعیتِ روزمره، زبان روزمره، و شعرگونگی؛ نمایشنامه را، به تعادلی خیره‌ کننده، رسانده است. «ایبسن‌» در نمایشنامه: «مرغابی وحشی»، به‌ عنوان الماس تراژدیِ شهرنشینان، که راهگشای تئاتر «رئالیستی» نیز هستند، با تأکید بر انسان متوسط، این‌ سه‌ اصل‌ را با استادی، رعایت می‌کنند. ایشان، که‌ در جوانی‌، در داروخانه‌ ای کار می‌کرده، و در غیبت‌ داروساز، خودش‌ نسخه‌ نیز می‌پیچیده، و دارو نیز، تجویز می‌کرده، از تجاربش‌، سود برده، و به‌ این‌ نتیجه‌ ‌درخشان رسیده، که‌ در آزمایشگاه‌ زندگی‌، و تئاتر نیز، از ‌روش‌ آسیب‌ شناسی‌، استفاده ‌کند: برای‌ شناخت‌ ویروس‌ یا قارچ‌، نخست نمونه‌ برداری می‌کنند، آن‌ را کشت می‌دهند، و سپس زیر میکروسکوپ‌، مطالعه‌ می‌کنند. همچنین، از آنجا که، در درام رئالیستی، تأکیدی بر قهرمان، یا چهره ی اصلی، نیست. پس در نمایشنامه ی «مرغابی وحشی»، به گروهی از آدمیان متوسط، می‌پردازند، و نمایشنامه‌، بر محور چند شخص‌، می‌چرخد. در «مرغابی‌ وحشی‌»، هیچکدام از اشخاص‌ نمایشنامه‌، آدم‌های‌ ویژه‌ ای‌ نیستند. در این نمایشنامه، «گرِگیرش» شبیه‌ دکتر «استوکمان‌»، در «دشمن‌ مردم» است‌. اما اگر دکتر «استوکمانِ‌» آرمان‌خواه‌، در پاره‌ ای‌ موارد ویژه‌، یعنی انسانی‌ ورای‌ نمونه ی نوعی‌، به نظر‌ می‌آیند، «گرِگیرش»، فردی منزوی، افسرده، و کمیک هستند. ...؛ نقل نمونه متن از نمایشنامه: «مولویک: این دختر نمرده، بلکه خواب است. رلینگ: مزخرف! در جامعه ای که خدایش هاکون ورله باشد، مولویکِ می خواره پیامبر دروغینش میشود.» پایان نقل. یادآور شدم که «مرغابی وحشی» اثری است که در آن تعادل بین امور روزمره، نماد و اسطوره، به خوبی مراعات شده است. در همان حالیکه خانه ی زیر شیروانی «یالمار ایکدال» بازتاب «تمثیل غار» افلاطون است، همچنین فضایی که بودنِ هاکون ورله را در بیرون از این چهاردیواری ترسیم میکند، نقیضی بر رستگاری آسمانی دانته است. دانته سفرش را از دوزخ آغاز میکند، و به یاری ویرژیل، شاعر حماسه سرای رُمی، از دوزخ میگذرد، و به کوهی میرسد که ابتدای برزخ است. از آنجا به بعد، او با یاری بئاتریس که مظهر پاکی است، به سوی نور میرود، و به آرامش و حقیقت ابدی دست مییابد. حرکت هاکون ورله اما نقیض سفر دانته است. او در فضای زیستی خودش، دوزخی میسازد؛ سپس به تپه ها و جنگلهای هویدال میرود، تا در قلمرو خود، به یاری بئاتریس قلابی ــــ خانم سوربی ــــ به نور و حقیقت پشت کند. نکته ی جالب این است، که ورله در این سیر، سوی چشمانش را نیز از دست میدهد، درست برخلاف آنچه در رستگاری آسمانی پیش میآید. ا. شربیانی

Review # 2 was written on 2013-02-17 00:00:00 Greg Wrench If he loves The Wild Duck and he wishes he had written it, he wants to be Ibsen for just that moment, and dedicate his play to someone who's been kind to him, is that lying? It isn't as bad as people doing work they have no respect for at all. Everybody has that feeling when they look at a work of art and it's right, that sudden familiarity, a sort of... recognition, as though they were creating it themselves, as though it were being created through them while they look at it or listen to it and, it shouldn't be sinful to want to have created beauty? William Gaddis 'The Recognitions' I didn't know that in Norway the meaning is "lies" and not "ideals". There was no reason for me to know that but it seems important. People might walk around on top of colder ground (or warmer underneath their many feet) with a different person to other person language dictionary. Gregers has a doorstop dictionary book. It has fine print that all mean truth, justice and the ... way. Your foot will have to be chopped off if he drops his word bombs on your life. Or not, if your person to person dictionary has other words in it, more powerful words. Gregers. If I should choose, I should like best to be a clever dog. Gina. A dog! Hedvig. (Involuntarily) Oh, no! Gregers. Yes, an amazingly clever dog; one that goes to the bottom after wild ducks when they dive and bite themselves fast in tangle and sea-weed, down among the ooze. A long time ago Gregers started carrying his big book with him. He didn't open it. He slept with it, torched it in his heart and warmed himself. His father, Werle, disobeyed the law of the word. He slept with another under the house of his ailing wife. He chased the housekeeper around the table until she gave in. Gregers wrote in his book so he would not forget that his father massively dicked over Lieutenant Ekdal. He takes his book with him to the works owned by his father and sells his silence to explode another day. Mount I know better than you will erupt and it is a bitch to wipe "ideals" off all the mirrors in its kiss off lipstick. Son Ekdal, the man of the house Hialmar, is his ideal. Man of his father's house, watching through a curtain for signs. Father and son live by big word rituals. Killing rabbits, felling trees, bring me a beer. His sleeping dog that lies, his experiment, is the younger Ekdal. Hialmar speaks a lot about his contentment, this so-called great man as Gregers sees it. He is a photographer who talks big words about some invention. His wife, the housekeeper escaped from the prying mercy of a dirty old man, does all of the work. Her husband loses his leash if she uses the wrong word. This must be when he is reminded of her past as a housekeeper cleaning up rabies foam from stupid Werle senior. He talks about his warm home, child bounding and big love, Ekdal junior. The love of his life, his poor daughter Hedvig, doomed to loss of sight. No need to tell her. Stay with daddy, be loved. She's big for her age of fourteen and she studies pictures in books and imagines herself at the depths of the sea. The girl was onto something, drowning in the words with no meaning to her. I hated them for her. They had big books with no pictures for anyone else and big words like something Bobby Brown would dance around. Punch you in the face. If I were sitting at their table I would have seen more lies than anyone Gina may or may not have fucked before she got together with her husband. Gregers. Not exactly to that. I don't say that your wing has been broken; but you have strayed into a poisonous marsh, Hialmar; an insidious disease has taken hold of you, and you have sunk down to die in the dark. Greger's leaves his book in dresser drawers in hotels for prostitutes and married men to find. He opens to page forty-two and it says that their marriage can begin again as a real marriage now that Hialmar knows the truth. Who died and made Gregers the word? Hialmar slinks off into a hissy fit of my daughter isn't my daughter, I can't look at you, oh I can't possibly think about my precious invention now that the world isn't to my grandstanding speeches in the kitchen over a beer. Pssst, Hedvig. You should make a sacrifice. Pictures say you are a coward, you can't do it. It looks ghostly at the depths of the sea. Pssst the sea snake hisses. His words sound afraid at night like her prayers for her father and the wild duck. When it is scary you ask for God to make it all right. Please make it all right, please love me again, be my father again. You should make a sacrifice and he will return to you. It is a poisonous marsh in the day time and Greger's dog teeth bite her neck so she'll stay there. You will make a sacrifice. Hedvig shoots herself. At the bottom of the depths of the sea it wouldn't have looked right to her to kill the duck. Or maybe it was an accident. It couldn't have looked right when all the lights are blotted out by the big words of the ideal. Hialmar cries for her to wake up long enough for him to say he loved her again. Gina says they couldn't have kept her forever. Who the hell died and made them her parents? Relling. Oh, life would be quite tolerable, after all, if only we could be rid of the confounded duns that keep on pestering us, in our poverty, with the claim of the ideal. I almost wanted to be the dog and save the wild duck. But Hialmar was not the duck. I would want to save Hedvig. But I don't know if she meant to kill herself or the duck. I could tell myself stories about her, refract my vision to believe she would not have done either, would have woken up to the daytime outside of prayers. Be a big grown girl. But what was about Hialmar that Greger wanted to write as his idol of perfect truth? Why was he the duck and Greger the dog? Why did he lie about this silly man to live another day? I wonder about the point he felt he had to make it become real, to open his big fat mouth. I didn't feel sorry for the loss of their lie, rather that a better one wasn't told to Hedvig. Let her read and paint pictures while she still could, if she really would go blind (if they took her to a doctor my belief in this fictional world would be quite suspended). I would want that one. I am not any better than Greger. I casted as the dog and the wild duck.