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Dear Life (2012)

de Alice Munro

MembrosResenhasPopularidadeAvaliação médiaMenções
2,195945,364 (3.85)149
This collection of stories illuminates moments that shape a life, from a dream or a sexual act to simple twists of fate that turn a person out of his or her accustomed path and into another way of being. Set in the countryside and towns of Lake Huron, these stories about departures and beginnings, accidents, dangers, and homecomings both virtual and real, paint a portrait of how strange, dangerous, and extraordinary the ordinary life can be.… (mais)
  1. 00
    Corrigan de Caroline Blackwood (kitzyl)
    kitzyl: The short story Corrie in the collection Dear Life and the book Corrigan share similarities beyond their titles. Both stories involve a single woman and a chance encounter at her home which leads to a relationship that is not all it seems.
  2. 00
    A Spool of Blue Thread de Anne Tyler (RidgewayGirl)
    RidgewayGirl: Both books focus on ordinary lives and families with a strong sense of place. Both are written by a master at the top of her game.
  3. 00
    The American Lover de Rose Tremain (BookshelfMonstrosity)
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» Veja também 149 menções

Inglês (84)  Espanhol (5)  Alemão (1)  Holandês (1)  Dinamarquês (1)  Italiano (1)  Finlandês (1)  Todos os idiomas (94)
Mostrando 1-5 de 94 (seguinte | mostrar todas)
She is a good writer, but not a good storyteller. I found the descriptions very evocative, but the protagonists ranged from annoying to unpleasant to downright unlikable. The stories tended to head in one direction, then, instead of reaching a conclusion, the original storyline would be abandoned and she'd pick up some other storyline mid-stream, so you'd miss the end of the first plot and the beginning of the second. I liked the semi-autobiographical stuff at the end much better than the stories because anecdotal storytelling works well for memoirs, not so much for short fiction. ( )
  emrsalgado | Jul 23, 2021 |
These short stories tagged along during a long career change. I wasn't sure where I was headed, so it was comforting that neither do Alice Munro's clueless characters: They're dreamers or just dreamy, oblivious, mistaken, ill at ease, unfocused, intent on the wrong things, obstinate, going with the flow, swept away by it. The variations gradually get more complex. By the end, her subjects have become self-aware: They know they're missing something, and comfortable with that. I've changed too. I'm more confident about my direction. And who knows where that'll lead?
  rynk | Jul 11, 2021 |
¿Bastan un beso robado, un salto desde un tren en marcha, la sombra de una mujer que me rodea alrededor de una casa, una borrachera de media tarde o las preguntas arriesgadas de una niña para conformar un mundo que se baste a sí mismo y cuente la vida entera? Si quien escribe es Alice Munro un simple adjetivo sirve para cruzar las fronteras de la anécdota y colocarnos en el lugar donde nacen los sentimientos y las emociones.La gran autora canadiense nos sorprende de nuevo con Mi vida querida , una colección de cuentos donde vemos a hombres y mujeres obligados a traficar con la vida sin más recursos que su humanidad. Comienzos, finales, virajes del destino... y de repente, cuando creíamos queel relato llegaría a su obvia conclusión, Munro nos invita a dar otra vuelta de tuerca que cambia el fluir de los acontecimientos y emociona al lector, mostrando hasta qué punto esa vida cotidiana que tanto nos cansa puede llegar a ser extraordinaria.Cierran el volumen unas páginas que Munro dedica a su propia vida, unas notas espléndidas donde lo personal se funde con la ficción, pues, en palabras de la misma autora"la autobiografía vive en la forma, más que en el contenido.""La lectura que piden los cuentos de Mi vida querida no es la de la prosa sino la de la poesía... una revelación de algo que no se agota porque está en las palabras y un poco más allá de ellas."Antonio Muñoz Molina ( )
  MigueLoza | Jun 15, 2021 |
This is Alice Munro at her best. I read somewhere that the stories in this book are shorter than most of her other short-stories and it is true, we are told only the most essential, and then, the amazing thing is what is not told. What, as the reader, we are left to wonder.

I think I did this book a disservice though. I could not avoid reading one story after the other; finishing one just in time to start another. I used to be a smoker, many years ago when it was still fashionable to do so. But I smoked 2 or 3 cigarettes a day, usually after a meal, while drinking an espresso – I lived in Brazil at the time and this was just the thing to do. Until the odd weekend when there was a party, and I sometimes would light one cigarette on the one I was just about finishing. It could not be avoided at that moment, but I would regret it the next day. This excess did not add to the overall pleasure of smoking, but detracted from it. So it was with this book. Each story should had been savored a bit longer, but I could not stop myself. And I now regret it… Then, be advised, pace yourself, if you can. And do not pick up smoking either, even if just 2 or 3 a day.
( )
  RosanaDR | Apr 15, 2021 |
This was a really solid collection. I continue to marvel at how serene and just exactly right her prose feels even when her subject matter doesn't especially inspire me.

It occurred to me while reading this collection that I read Munro much as I've often read Frost -- as someone who on the surface seems by and large wholesome and pastoral but in whose writing can be found much darkness once you've shaken that easy sense of the pastoral or provincial.

It kind of made me sad to see that the last four pieces in this book are offered as generally more autobiographical than fictional. They have a brief preface titled "Finale" in which Munro says these are the first and probably the last things she'll say about her own life. I don't believe the author ought to be expected to tell us more about her life, but I do worry that this means Munro is somehow figuring her work is coming to an end (she is not a young woman). ( )
  dllh | Jan 6, 2021 |
Mostrando 1-5 de 94 (seguinte | mostrar todas)
Munro's stories are full of smart young women wryly observing men's desire for dominance and other women's collusion with their own subservience. In "Dolly", the narrator observes of a love rival, "men are charmed by stubborn quirks if the girl is good-looking enough… all that delight in the infantile female brain."

But it would be wrong to think of Munro as a chronicler of the particular disappointments of being female: she draws men just as well. There is a heartbreaking portrayal of a widowed policeman in "Leaving Maverley". Despite the inevitable end of his wife's lengthy and terminal illness, he realises as he leaves the hospital: 'He'd thought that it had happened long before with Isabel, but it hadn't. Not until now. She had existed and now she did not… And before long, he found himself outside, pretending that he had as ordinary and good a reason as anybody else to put one foot ahead of the other."

There is an interesting diversion at the end of this book: the final four stories are, in Munro's own words, "not quite stories… the first and last – and the closest – things I have to say about my own life." A less well-known writer would not be allowed to lift her hands and say, "Look, there are some bits here, and I'm not sure what they are, but there you go," but they are delightful additions to this collection. Plainer, with a slightly more bitter edge, than the "fictional" stories that precede them, they are a tantalising glimpse of the memoir Munro fans would swoon for, should she choose to write it. The first indeed – but let's hope she changes her mind and makes them not the last.
adicionado por VivienneR | editarThe Guardian, Louise Doughty (Nov 25, 2012)
 
After the first 10 short stories in her new collection, Alice Munro inserts a single paragraph on an otherwise blank page, under the heading, Finale: “The final four works in this book are not quite stories. They form a separate unit, one that is autobiographical in feeling, though not, sometimes, entirely so in fact. I believe they are the first and last – and the closest – things I have to say about my own life.”

“Dear Life” describes the house Munro lived in when she was growing-up in Wingham, Ontario, where her mother was a schoolteacher and her father a fur and poultry farmer. “This is not a story, only life,” she notes, signalling the pathways, names, coincidences that might have been woven into her fiction, but here are present as memories.

“The Eye” is the most majestic of Munro’s monuments to memory. She remembers being taken, the year she started school, to see the dead body of a young woman whom her mother had hired to help after the birth of Munro’s younger siblings. Encouraged to look into the coffin, she thought she saw the young woman slightly open one eye: a private signal to her alone. “Good for you,” her mother said, as they left the grieving household.
It is fascinating to compare this with the end of the story “Amundsen” earlier in the collection. Two people who were lovers long ago meet unexpectedly crossing a Toronto street.
The man opens one of his eyes slightly wider than the other and asks, “How are you?” “Happy,” she says. “Good for you,” he replies.
In this book, Munro has laid bare the foundations of her fiction as never before. Lovers of her writing must hope this is not, in fact, her finale. But if it is, it’s spectacular.
adicionado por VivienneR | editarThe Telegraph, Ruth Scurr (Nov 21, 2012)
 

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This collection of stories illuminates moments that shape a life, from a dream or a sexual act to simple twists of fate that turn a person out of his or her accustomed path and into another way of being. Set in the countryside and towns of Lake Huron, these stories about departures and beginnings, accidents, dangers, and homecomings both virtual and real, paint a portrait of how strange, dangerous, and extraordinary the ordinary life can be.

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