About Arthur Rimbaud wanted to tell me what writing''A Season in Hell''(1873), allow me to express myself using an expression typical late-nineteenth-century literary criticism related to the tradition of supercazzola: do not understand I've got practically a bat .
The impression is that Rimbaud writes nonsense, you'd think this man in the street, admitted that his stay there sitting on the bench with''A Season in Hell''in hand is a sham to mask His wait for a woman on the street, and talking about it so hot, immediately after you finish reading it, one might spontaneously svanverare to me, is so contagious, the nonsense of Arthur.
However it must be said that then he is pardoned, Arthur, if you get in the end, the book, because sometimes it just slips of the phrases that really split, one of those worth ten books of those who understand, here they are in version Velvet's Remix (extended edit 2010):
in heaven wounds endless blankets of white nations party around me women devoured by beasts sensitive as fires, I I believe in hell, so there are, is the fulfillment of the catechism, his kisses were a dark sky where I would be left, the action is not life, is a way of wasting energy in his soul I felt like an empty building that they did not see a very noble person like me, I ended up finding sacred the disorder of my spirit, the moral is the weakness of the brain, in my mind I could erase all human hope, and spring I brought the rice dell'idiota atrocious, hell can not persecute the pagans.
(''A Season in Hell,''by Arthur Rimbaud, ed. SE, 1996, pp. 112, 10 euros, against the French text, in short, jumping is done soon, then you can skip if the test critical final 20 pages, very early)
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