The Art of Tetman Callis

Some of the stories and poems may be inappropriate for persons under 16

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Entries Tagged as 'Elena Ferrante'

So there

March 1st, 2016 · No Comments

“I doubt that work ennobles man and I absolutely rule out that it ennobles woman.” – Elena Ferrante, “The Author Is Purely a Name” (trans. Goldstein)

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Tags: Elena Ferrante · Lit & Crit

Bait your hook, drop your line

February 29th, 2016 · No Comments

“I think of writing as a long, tiring, pleasant seduction. The stories you tell, the words you use and work on, the characters you try to give life to, are only tools with which you circle around the evasive thing, unnamed and shapeless, which belongs only to you, and which is a sort of key […]

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Tags: Elena Ferrante · Lit & Crit

You gotta believe

February 28th, 2016 · No Comments

“Someone who truly loves literature is like a person of faith. The believer knows very well that there is nothing at all at the bureau of vital statistics about the Jesus that truly counts for him.” – Elena Ferrante, “The Author Is Purely a Name” (trans. Goldstein)

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Tags: Elena Ferrante · Lit & Crit

It’s not hard

February 27th, 2016 · No Comments

“Words draw out words: one can always write a banal, elegant, heartfelt, amusing coherent page on any subject, low or high, simple or complex, frivolous or fundamental.” – Elena Ferrante, “The Author Is Purely a Name” (trans. Goldstein)

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Tags: Elena Ferrante · Lit & Crit

Welcome to life

July 24th, 2013 · No Comments

“Every second something might happen that will cause you such suffering that you’ll never have enough tears.” — Elena Ferrante, My Brilliant Friend (trans. Goldstein)

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Tags: Elena Ferrante · Lit & Crit

Condensed confessions

July 19th, 2013 · No Comments

“There are no gestures, words, or sighs that do not contain the sum of all the crimes that human beings have committed and commit.” – Elena Ferrante, My Brilliant Friend (trans. Goldstein)

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Tags: Elena Ferrante · Lit & Crit

Shits happen

July 11th, 2013 · 2 Comments

“A long passage of life together, and you think he’s the only man you can be happy with, you credit him with countless critical virtues, and instead he’s just a reed that emits sounds of falsehood, you don’t know who he really is, he doesn’t know himself.  We are occasions.  We consummate life and lose […]

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Tags: Elena Ferrante · Lit & Crit