I only recently (last six or seven years) learned to read Spanish. It is an excellent exercise for one’s brain. El Jarama is written almost entirely in dialogue, much. About Rafael Sánchez Ferlosio: Hijo del escritor y uno de los principales ideólogos del falangismo Rafael Sánchez Mazas y de la italiana. 1 quote from El Jarama: ‘Nosotros estamos enseñados a que son malas ciertas cosas y de ahí que las aborrecemos y nos da asco de ellas; pero igual podíamo.

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It was when there were geraniums on the balconies, sunflower-seed stands in the Moncloa, herds of yearling sheep in the vacant lots of the Guindalera. The fruitseller’s daughter fell in love with him and gave him apricots and plums. Sign in with Facebook Sign in options.

El Jarama Quotes by Rafael Sánchez Ferlosio

She returned home crying and, without saying anything to anyone, died of bitterness. Then, then uarama the story of Don Zana ‘The Marionette. He would breakfast on a large cup of chocolate and he would not return until night or dawn.

A rose and mauve lady that had not yet gathered her flesh and her beauty into dark clothes, and still waited, like a rose stripped of its petals, with her faded colors and her artificial smile, bitter as a grimace. Perhaps she had been waiting since she was fifteen.

He slept in a pension where no one else stayed. He wore a white shirt, a jacket of green flannel, a bow tie, light trousers, and shoes of Corinthian red on his little dancing feet. Don Zana kept the pits to make her believe he loved her. Esas Yndias Equivocadas Y Malditas: His chest was a trapezoid. Just a moment while we sign you in to your Goodreads account.


El testimonio de Yarfoz 3.

Her flesh was slack and she was some forty-five years old. Many felt his dry, wooden slap; many listened to his odious songs, and all saw him dance on the tables. Don Zana broke the flower pots with his hand and he laughed at everything. Don Zana used to walk through the outskirts of Madrid and catch small dirty fish in fsrlosio Manzanares. This was Don Zana ‘The Marionette,’ the one who used feflosio dance on the tables and the coffins.

The girl cried when days passed without Don Zana’s going by her street.

Or they stepped on the spread-out sheets, undershirts, or pink chemises clinging to the ground like the gay shadow of a handsome young marama. Don Zana said to her, ‘You don’t pay for art, kid. One day he took her out for a walk. Then he would light a fire of dry leaves and fry them.

He awoke one morning, hanging in the dusty storeroom of a theater, next to a lady of the eighteenth century, with many white ringlets and a cornucopia of a face.

Comentarios A La Historia 4. Want to Read saving… Error rating book. Mientras no cambien los dioses, nada ha cambiado 4. Rate this book Jarmaa rating 1 of 5 stars 2 of 5 stars 3 of 5 stars 4 of 5 stars 5 of 5 stars. Sometimes they stole into the patios; they ate up the parsley, a little green sprig of parsley, in the summer, in the watered shade of the patios, in the cool windows of the basements at foot jarmaa.


It was that time, the story of Don Zana ‘The Marionette,’ he with the hair of cream-colored string, he with the large and empty laugh like a slice of watermelon, the one of the Tra-kay, tra-kay, tra-kay, tra-kay, tra-kay, tra on the tables, on the coffins. He had a disagreeable voice, like the breaking of dry reeds; he talked more than anyone, and he got drunk at the little tables in the taverns.

Want to Read saving…. The fruitseller’s daughter, with her quince-lips, still bloodless, ingenuously kissed that slice-of-watermelon laugh. Refresh and try again. He liked to argue, to go visiting in houses. Every morning he would put on his bright red shoes and have them cleaned.

El Jarama Quotes

Margaret Jull Costa Translator. They were dragging their heavy wool, eating the grass among the rubbish, bleating to the neighborhood. Want to Read Currently Reading Read. This lady was waiting for a husband.

He would throw the cards into the air when he lost, and he didn’t stoop fdrlosio to pick them up. Topics Mentioning This Author. He would dance in the elevators and on the landings, spill ink wells, beat on pianos with his rigid little gloved hands. Discover new books on Goodreads.