Mostrar mensagens com a etiqueta japão. Mostrar todas as mensagens
Mostrar mensagens com a etiqueta japão. Mostrar todas as mensagens

segunda-feira, 5 de dezembro de 2011

Leitura da semana

Ainda a propósito dos heróis das Caxinas, e depois de propor um «retorno aos clássicos» (ao Relato de um Náufrago, de García Márquez), aqui fica a sugestão de leitura da semana, com um agradecimento ao Ricardo J. Rodrigues:

"No Japão, dois dias depois do tsunami, um homem foi encontrado em alto mar, a flutuar no telhado de sua casa. The Man Who Sailed His House é uma ode à boa escrita e ao detalhe. Estupendo jornalismo narrativo, com assinatura de Michael Paterniti, na GQ americana. Os pescadores de Caxinas mereciam uma reportagem assim."



NOTES FROM A CASTAWAY
Adrift, alone, with little hope of rescue, Hiromitsu Shinkawa began scribbling messages with a marker he'd fished from the sea. In the order he wrote them, here are the words he thought would be his last.
On March 11, I was with my wife, Yuko.
My name is Hiromitsu.
I just want to report that I am still alive on the twelfth and was with my wife, Yuko, yesterday.
She was born January 12 of Showa 26.
SOS
I am sorry for being unfilial.
I'm in a lot of trouble.
Sorry for dying before you.
Please forgive me.

terça-feira, 22 de março de 2011

Leitura da semana


Que grande, grande capa! O director de arte da Economist está de parabéns, provando que as grandes ideias são, quase sempre, ideias muito simples.
O artigo principal da edição, sobre os dias trágicos que se vivem no Japão, é igualmente bom:

"Up a shallow river, five kilometres from the Pacific coast in Japan’s north-eastern Iwate prefecture, lie the remains of a town. Crushed wooden houses now resemble matchwood, scattered in every direction over swampy wasteland. A purple car is partially submerged in mud. The piles of debris reach two metres high.
Only on close inspection do you see that it was never a town at all—at least not there. It was a rice paddy. The houses, shops, cars and people belonged lower down the valley. But the town is gone, washed away. Its debris settled on the field, high up the valley, that was the tsunami’s high-water mark. That is all that physically remains of Rikuzentakata."