What do you think?
Rate this book
Tengo algo que deciros
see my picture
192 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1961
3 people are currently reading
99 people want to read
About the author
Thomas Wolfe
396 books1,132 followersPeople best know American writer Thomas Clayton Wolfe for his autobiographical novels, including
Look Homeward, Angel
(1929) and the posthumously published
You Can't Go Home Again
(1940).
Wolfe wrote four lengthy novels and many short stories, dramatic works and novellas. He mixed highly original, poetic, rhapsodic, and impressionistic prose with autobiographical writing. Wolfe wrote and published books that vividly reflect on American culture and the mores, filtered through his sensitive, sophisticated and hyper-analytical perspective. People widely knew him during his own lifetime.
Wolfe inspired the works of many other authors, including Betty Smith with A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, Robert Morgan with Gap Creek; Pat Conroy, author of Prince of Tides, said, "My writing career began the instant I finished Look Homeward, Angel." Jack Kerouac idolized Wolfe. Wolfe influenced Ray Bradbury, who included Wolfe as a character in his books.
(from Wikipedia)
Wolfe wrote four lengthy novels and many short stories, dramatic works and novellas. He mixed highly original, poetic, rhapsodic, and impressionistic prose with autobiographical writing. Wolfe wrote and published books that vividly reflect on American culture and the mores, filtered through his sensitive, sophisticated and hyper-analytical perspective. People widely knew him during his own lifetime.
Wolfe inspired the works of many other authors, including Betty Smith with A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, Robert Morgan with Gap Creek; Pat Conroy, author of Prince of Tides, said, "My writing career began the instant I finished Look Homeward, Angel." Jack Kerouac idolized Wolfe. Wolfe influenced Ray Bradbury, who included Wolfe as a character in his books.
(from Wikipedia)
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 11 of 11 reviews
September 22, 2024
Este volumen, publicado en 1961, contiene las cinco novelas cortas de Thomas Wolfe conocidas entonces. Idealmente tendría que haber incluido versión larga de El niño perdido, pero el editor del volumen, el prestigioso profesor Hugh Holman, no la conoció, pues no se publicó hasta el año 1992, después de que James W. Clark completara su edición del mecanuscrito original de la obra.
Hoy, 22 de septiembre de 2024, he terminado mi lectura en dos días de la última novela del volumen: La fiesta de los Jack. Así que creo que merece la pena hacer aunque sea un bosquejo de reseña de las obras de este volumen.
1. Un retrato de Bascom Hawke (1932)
Valoración: **
Lo primero que habría que preguntarse qué hace una obra sin trama —básicamente una reflexión lírica sobre la vida en réplica a Tierra Baldía de Eliot— en un volumen de novelas cortas; pero lo cierto es que como tal no sólo fue publicada en 1932 por la revista Scribner, sino que ganó el premio concedido ese año por la revista a la mejor obra de ese género.
Wolfe desarrolla en esta "novela corta" un pasaje sobre su tío materno, Henry Westall, que fue suprimido de El ángel que nos mira cuando se publicó en 1929. En el mecanuscrito de Ángel el tío se llamaba Henry Pentland, pero aquí ha transmutado a Bascom Hawke, de la misma manera que Eugene Gant es ahora David Hawke. No obstante, el papel de David es relativamente secundario, y se limita a hacer de narrador, a intervenir a ratos, en primera persona, pero sólo como interlocutor de su tío en Cambridge, Massachusetts, y a soltarnos sus "ditirambos" poéticos sobre esto y aquello.
Mi valoración de la obra en dos líneas es esta:
«Un absurdo pastiche de autocomplaciente biografía ficcional de su tío, canto poético sobre América a la Whitman y esbozo de narración de una pequeña historia entre Bascom Hawke y su esposa»
2. La red de la tierra (1932)
Valoración: --
No puedo decir con propiedad que haya leído esta segunda novela corta de Wolfe, publicada, al igual que la primera, en 1932. Leí de manera concentrada las primeras páginas y luego dediqué un par de horas a hojear el resto.
En ella Wolfe perfecciona un formato que ya vimos en forma rudimentaria en Un retrato de Bascom Hawke, y que repetiría luego en El niño perdido y en su relato corto «Chickamauga»: un narrador poco intrusivo, trasunto del propio Wolfe, actúa como personaje en segundo plano al convertirse en interlocutor de un personaje central, que le cuenta alguna historia. En este caso el personaje que cuenta la o, más bien, las historias es Eliza Hawke, que es el nuevo nombre de Eliza Gant en El ángel que nos mira. Lo leído no me atrajo demasiado, pero quizás le dé una oportunidad más adelante.
3. No hay puerta (1933)
Valoración: *****
Este año (2024) he releído esta novela corta, y lo que es más, he trabajado en mi propia edición crítica en inglés, con el correspondiente estudio introductorio. La considero una de las mejores obras de Wolfe, si no la mejor (en reñida competencia con El niño perdido).
Tengo pendiente hacer una reseña en:
https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...
4. Tengo algo que deciros (1937)
Valoración: ****
Se trata de una novela que por escenario (un tren en la Alemania nazi), temática (algo que no le ocurre a Wolfe, ni a su madre, ni a su tío ni a su prima, sino a un tercero) y, en gran medida, estilo narrativo (más ágil, más conciso) se parece más a Agatha Christie que al propio Wolfe; si bien este mete con calzador uno de sus ditirambos poéticos (y autobiográficos y egocentrados) al final. Pero qué le vamos a hacer, Wolfe siempre será Wolfe.
Más adelante ampliaré esta reseña.
5. La fiesta de los Jack (1938)
Valoración: ****
Wolfe terminó esta obra durante el verano de 1936, cuando se retiró a trabajar en una cabaña en las montañas próximas a su nativa Asheville, en Carolina del Norte.
Narra una fiesta en un lujoso piso de Nueva York, con toda su fauna de personajes, que abarcan todos los estratos sociales, o una buena parte de ellos.
Aunque algunos han interpretado que es un ejemplo del Wolfe más maduro, que ya no quiere hablar de él ni narrar episodios de su vida, sino mostrar las vidas de otros, al final no puede evitar meternos una justificación de por qué terminó su relación con Aline Bernstein hacia el final de la obra. Es que no podía evitarlo :-)
También en este caso, ampliaré mi reseña más adelante.
Hoy, 22 de septiembre de 2024, he terminado mi lectura en dos días de la última novela del volumen: La fiesta de los Jack. Así que creo que merece la pena hacer aunque sea un bosquejo de reseña de las obras de este volumen.
1. Un retrato de Bascom Hawke (1932)
Valoración: **
Lo primero que habría que preguntarse qué hace una obra sin trama —básicamente una reflexión lírica sobre la vida en réplica a Tierra Baldía de Eliot— en un volumen de novelas cortas; pero lo cierto es que como tal no sólo fue publicada en 1932 por la revista Scribner, sino que ganó el premio concedido ese año por la revista a la mejor obra de ese género.
Wolfe desarrolla en esta "novela corta" un pasaje sobre su tío materno, Henry Westall, que fue suprimido de El ángel que nos mira cuando se publicó en 1929. En el mecanuscrito de Ángel el tío se llamaba Henry Pentland, pero aquí ha transmutado a Bascom Hawke, de la misma manera que Eugene Gant es ahora David Hawke. No obstante, el papel de David es relativamente secundario, y se limita a hacer de narrador, a intervenir a ratos, en primera persona, pero sólo como interlocutor de su tío en Cambridge, Massachusetts, y a soltarnos sus "ditirambos" poéticos sobre esto y aquello.
Mi valoración de la obra en dos líneas es esta:
«Un absurdo pastiche de autocomplaciente biografía ficcional de su tío, canto poético sobre América a la Whitman y esbozo de narración de una pequeña historia entre Bascom Hawke y su esposa»
2. La red de la tierra (1932)
Valoración: --
No puedo decir con propiedad que haya leído esta segunda novela corta de Wolfe, publicada, al igual que la primera, en 1932. Leí de manera concentrada las primeras páginas y luego dediqué un par de horas a hojear el resto.
En ella Wolfe perfecciona un formato que ya vimos en forma rudimentaria en Un retrato de Bascom Hawke, y que repetiría luego en El niño perdido y en su relato corto «Chickamauga»: un narrador poco intrusivo, trasunto del propio Wolfe, actúa como personaje en segundo plano al convertirse en interlocutor de un personaje central, que le cuenta alguna historia. En este caso el personaje que cuenta la o, más bien, las historias es Eliza Hawke, que es el nuevo nombre de Eliza Gant en El ángel que nos mira. Lo leído no me atrajo demasiado, pero quizás le dé una oportunidad más adelante.
3. No hay puerta (1933)
Valoración: *****
Este año (2024) he releído esta novela corta, y lo que es más, he trabajado en mi propia edición crítica en inglés, con el correspondiente estudio introductorio. La considero una de las mejores obras de Wolfe, si no la mejor (en reñida competencia con El niño perdido).
Tengo pendiente hacer una reseña en:
https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...
4. Tengo algo que deciros (1937)
Valoración: ****
Se trata de una novela que por escenario (un tren en la Alemania nazi), temática (algo que no le ocurre a Wolfe, ni a su madre, ni a su tío ni a su prima, sino a un tercero) y, en gran medida, estilo narrativo (más ágil, más conciso) se parece más a Agatha Christie que al propio Wolfe; si bien este mete con calzador uno de sus ditirambos poéticos (y autobiográficos y egocentrados) al final. Pero qué le vamos a hacer, Wolfe siempre será Wolfe.
Más adelante ampliaré esta reseña.
5. La fiesta de los Jack (1938)
Valoración: ****
Wolfe terminó esta obra durante el verano de 1936, cuando se retiró a trabajar en una cabaña en las montañas próximas a su nativa Asheville, en Carolina del Norte.
Narra una fiesta en un lujoso piso de Nueva York, con toda su fauna de personajes, que abarcan todos los estratos sociales, o una buena parte de ellos.
Aunque algunos han interpretado que es un ejemplo del Wolfe más maduro, que ya no quiere hablar de él ni narrar episodios de su vida, sino mostrar las vidas de otros, al final no puede evitar meternos una justificación de por qué terminó su relación con Aline Bernstein hacia el final de la obra. Es que no podía evitarlo :-)
También en este caso, ampliaré mi reseña más adelante.
August 14, 2010
Thomas Wolfe is great, and it is a shame that he isn't held among the giants of American literature. In this, my favorite was the story "I Have a Thing to Tell You," about his farewell to a Germany that had become Nazi.
February 23, 2021
Como narrador, estrictamente hablando, Thomas Wolfe logra su cometido de manera más que satisfactoria para el lector. Sin embargo, ambas tramas fueron abarrotadas (a mi gusto) de descripciones y diálogos que mas que aportar, hacían los relatos densos y lentos. No es un libro que recomendaría, sin embargo no me quedaré sin leer sus cuentos, que según dicen hizo un par de manera magistral.
August 18, 2017
3 relatos y 3 Thomas Wolfe completamente diferentes. Pasando de la critica social al análisis introspectivo de todo aquello que aqueja a la humanidad, Wolfe nos brinda una obra bastante completa que si bien es corta cumple su cometido de descrestar.
Read
September 26, 2023once again, im left w the feeling that wolfe would be one of my guiding stars if I had found him when I was, like, 12 or 13
March 15, 2025
Thomas Wolfe is best known for his four long novels, but he also published many short stories and several short novels during his brief career. The Short Novels of Thomas Wolfe, edited by C. Hugh Holman, and published in 1961, shines more light on these neglected pieces of writing.
Five short novels, originally published in magazines, are included in the book: A Portrait of Bascom Hawke, The Web of Earth, No Door, “I Have a Thing to Tell You,” and The Party at Jack’s. Things get a little confusing because Wolfe incorporated the material from the first three short novels into his second novel Of Time and the River. After Wolfe’s death in 1938, his editor Edward C. Aswell incorporated the material from the last two short novels into the 1940 novel You Can’t Go Home Again. Holman does the reader a service by reprinting these short novels as they appeared in magazines during the 1930’s, showing us how readers at the time would have encountered these texts. Part of Holman’s purpose was to demonstrate to the reader how Wolfe edited and shaped his writing, and that Wolfe was capable of writing fiction outside of the context of his long, autobiographical novels.
Wolfe’s skill at creating shorter works of fiction is evident from these five short novels. The Web of Earth is especially impressive, as Wolfe channels the voice of his mother, Julia Wolfe, and the story unspools largely as a monologue. It’s a masterful performance, and shows Wolfe’s control of his material, as the old woman moves backwards and forwards in time as she embarks on diversions from her main narrative. The way Wolfe captures her speech patterns is fantastic.
No Door is a beautiful and sad portrait of loneliness and isolation, as Wolfe takes the reader through several different Octobers in his life, and explores his yearning for human connection. Wolfe is searching for the door—the escape, the connection to others—but he can’t find it.
There’s a wonderful paragraph describing New York City at the beginning of No Door that is a fantastic example of Wolfe’s style:
“Evening is coming fast, and the tall frosted glasses in your hands make a thin but pleasant tinkling, and the great city is blazing there in your vision in its terrific frontal sweep and curtain of star-flung towers, now sown with the diamond pollen of a million lights, and the sun has set behind them, and the red light of fading day is painted upon the river—and you see the boats, the tugs, the barges passing, and the winglike swoop of bridges with exultant joy—and night has come, and there are ships there—there are ships—and a wild intolerable longing in you that you cannot utter.” (p.160)
Wolfe’s exuberant prose paints such a vivid picture of the city for the reader. Another one of my favorite passages in No Door is one in which Wolfe describes working men eating:
“They ate with bestial concentration, grained to the teeth with coarse spicy meat, coating their sandwiched hamburgers with the liberal unction of the thick tomato ketchup, and rending with hard blackened fingers soft yielding slabs of fragrant baker’s bread.” (p.224)
I love the phrase “liberal unction of the thick tomato ketchup,” it’s just such a wonderful and unlikely combination.
A Portrait of Bascome Hawke isn’t really about loneliness, but it has an interesting quote related to it. Wolfe writes of the title character, “Like all of us he had no home.” (p.22) Much of Wolfe’s writing is about people searching for home, looking for human connections.
Although Wolfe was from North Carolina, he showed in this passage that he understood spring in the north: “It was one of the first days of spring: the spring had come late, with a magical northern suddenness. It seemed to have burst out of the earth overnight, the air was lyrical and sang with it.” (p.49) I’ve definitely experienced days like that.
“I Have a Thing to Tell You” is a fascinating story. Wolfe had visited Germany several times in the 1920’s and 1930’s, and he felt a deep love and admiration for the country. When Of Time and the River was published in a German translation in 1935, Wolfe became a literary celebrity in Germany. Wolfe visited Germany again during the summer of 1936, and this visit finally soured him on the Nazi government. Wolfe was no fascist, but like other Western visitors to Germany between 1933 and 1938, he saw what Nazi propaganda intended for him to see—that things in Germany were looking up. In 1936, Wolfe attended a reception for Charles Lindbergh in Berlin, and I wish I knew what these two men thought of each other. The events detailed in “I Have a Thing to Tell You” happened to Wolfe—he was riding a train from Berlin to Paris, and one of the passengers in his compartment was a Jew who was trying to get out of Germany. When the train stopped at the Belgian border, the man was detained by the Germans, who found that he was trying to smuggle money out of Germany. At that time, only 10 Marks could be taken out of Germany—Wolfe had to spend all of his German royalties before he left the country. Wolfe felt a sense of helpless indignation and rage at the plight of this Jewish man, and he realized the cold brutality of the Nazi government. In the story as the Jewish man is being taken off the train, Wolfe wrote: “All of a sudden, without knowing why, I felt myself trembling with a murderous and incomprehensible anger...I felt impotent, shackled, unable to stir against the walls of an obscene but unshakable authority.” (p.270)
Wolfe knew that if he published this story, he would be persona non grata in Germany—he would be shutting the door on a place where he was celebrated. To Wolfe’s credit, he published “I Have a Thing to Tell You,” because he knew it was the right thing to do. It is a powerful story and has a strong narrative drive.
In the story, Wolfe perfectly describes receiving a wake-up call from the front desk of the hotel: “I stirred, then roused sharply, from that fitful and uneasy sleep which a man experiences when he has gone to bed late knowing he has got to get up early.” (p.236)
Wolfe has his German publisher acerbically describe literary fame: “But then, I notice, in America they love everyone a year—and then they spit upon him.” (p.247) By 1937, when “I Have a Thing to Tell You” was published, Wolfe had experienced both critical acclaim and critical revulsion firsthand, and I found that line to be quite funny, and also accurate.
The Party at Jack’s is a bit of a let-down after “I Have a Thing to Tell You” but it also presents us with Wolfe’s growing social concerns. In it, Wolfe describes a party at a fancy New York City apartment building on Park Avenue. (Specifically, the Hotel Marguery, now the site of the JP Morgan Chase building.) The Hotel Marguery was built above railroad tracks that led to Grand Central Terminal, and Wolfe describes the people who live in the apartment feeling the vibrations of the trains passing underneath. This becomes a vivid symbol of the working class rumbling underneath the wealthy above them. It’s also a symbol of the building being built literally over, or on the backs of, the lower class. Wolfe casts his net wide in the story, giving the reader little portraits of many different characters. The sculptor Alexander Calder shows up as “Piggy Hartwell” in the story, performing his circus act with tiny wire figures of his own creation. Wolfe was not impressed with Calder’s act, and according to the story, neither were most of the guests at the party. Maybe Calder’s mobiles would have been more to Wolfe’s taste?
The Short Novels of Thomas Wolfe has been out of print for years. That’s unfortunate, because it gives readers a chance to see Wolfe’s mastery of the short novel, or novella, format, and it also affords us the opportunity to see how his work was presented in magazines during his lifetime.
Five short novels, originally published in magazines, are included in the book: A Portrait of Bascom Hawke, The Web of Earth, No Door, “I Have a Thing to Tell You,” and The Party at Jack’s. Things get a little confusing because Wolfe incorporated the material from the first three short novels into his second novel Of Time and the River. After Wolfe’s death in 1938, his editor Edward C. Aswell incorporated the material from the last two short novels into the 1940 novel You Can’t Go Home Again. Holman does the reader a service by reprinting these short novels as they appeared in magazines during the 1930’s, showing us how readers at the time would have encountered these texts. Part of Holman’s purpose was to demonstrate to the reader how Wolfe edited and shaped his writing, and that Wolfe was capable of writing fiction outside of the context of his long, autobiographical novels.
Wolfe’s skill at creating shorter works of fiction is evident from these five short novels. The Web of Earth is especially impressive, as Wolfe channels the voice of his mother, Julia Wolfe, and the story unspools largely as a monologue. It’s a masterful performance, and shows Wolfe’s control of his material, as the old woman moves backwards and forwards in time as she embarks on diversions from her main narrative. The way Wolfe captures her speech patterns is fantastic.
No Door is a beautiful and sad portrait of loneliness and isolation, as Wolfe takes the reader through several different Octobers in his life, and explores his yearning for human connection. Wolfe is searching for the door—the escape, the connection to others—but he can’t find it.
There’s a wonderful paragraph describing New York City at the beginning of No Door that is a fantastic example of Wolfe’s style:
“Evening is coming fast, and the tall frosted glasses in your hands make a thin but pleasant tinkling, and the great city is blazing there in your vision in its terrific frontal sweep and curtain of star-flung towers, now sown with the diamond pollen of a million lights, and the sun has set behind them, and the red light of fading day is painted upon the river—and you see the boats, the tugs, the barges passing, and the winglike swoop of bridges with exultant joy—and night has come, and there are ships there—there are ships—and a wild intolerable longing in you that you cannot utter.” (p.160)
Wolfe’s exuberant prose paints such a vivid picture of the city for the reader. Another one of my favorite passages in No Door is one in which Wolfe describes working men eating:
“They ate with bestial concentration, grained to the teeth with coarse spicy meat, coating their sandwiched hamburgers with the liberal unction of the thick tomato ketchup, and rending with hard blackened fingers soft yielding slabs of fragrant baker’s bread.” (p.224)
I love the phrase “liberal unction of the thick tomato ketchup,” it’s just such a wonderful and unlikely combination.
A Portrait of Bascome Hawke isn’t really about loneliness, but it has an interesting quote related to it. Wolfe writes of the title character, “Like all of us he had no home.” (p.22) Much of Wolfe’s writing is about people searching for home, looking for human connections.
Although Wolfe was from North Carolina, he showed in this passage that he understood spring in the north: “It was one of the first days of spring: the spring had come late, with a magical northern suddenness. It seemed to have burst out of the earth overnight, the air was lyrical and sang with it.” (p.49) I’ve definitely experienced days like that.
“I Have a Thing to Tell You” is a fascinating story. Wolfe had visited Germany several times in the 1920’s and 1930’s, and he felt a deep love and admiration for the country. When Of Time and the River was published in a German translation in 1935, Wolfe became a literary celebrity in Germany. Wolfe visited Germany again during the summer of 1936, and this visit finally soured him on the Nazi government. Wolfe was no fascist, but like other Western visitors to Germany between 1933 and 1938, he saw what Nazi propaganda intended for him to see—that things in Germany were looking up. In 1936, Wolfe attended a reception for Charles Lindbergh in Berlin, and I wish I knew what these two men thought of each other. The events detailed in “I Have a Thing to Tell You” happened to Wolfe—he was riding a train from Berlin to Paris, and one of the passengers in his compartment was a Jew who was trying to get out of Germany. When the train stopped at the Belgian border, the man was detained by the Germans, who found that he was trying to smuggle money out of Germany. At that time, only 10 Marks could be taken out of Germany—Wolfe had to spend all of his German royalties before he left the country. Wolfe felt a sense of helpless indignation and rage at the plight of this Jewish man, and he realized the cold brutality of the Nazi government. In the story as the Jewish man is being taken off the train, Wolfe wrote: “All of a sudden, without knowing why, I felt myself trembling with a murderous and incomprehensible anger...I felt impotent, shackled, unable to stir against the walls of an obscene but unshakable authority.” (p.270)
Wolfe knew that if he published this story, he would be persona non grata in Germany—he would be shutting the door on a place where he was celebrated. To Wolfe’s credit, he published “I Have a Thing to Tell You,” because he knew it was the right thing to do. It is a powerful story and has a strong narrative drive.
In the story, Wolfe perfectly describes receiving a wake-up call from the front desk of the hotel: “I stirred, then roused sharply, from that fitful and uneasy sleep which a man experiences when he has gone to bed late knowing he has got to get up early.” (p.236)
Wolfe has his German publisher acerbically describe literary fame: “But then, I notice, in America they love everyone a year—and then they spit upon him.” (p.247) By 1937, when “I Have a Thing to Tell You” was published, Wolfe had experienced both critical acclaim and critical revulsion firsthand, and I found that line to be quite funny, and also accurate.
The Party at Jack’s is a bit of a let-down after “I Have a Thing to Tell You” but it also presents us with Wolfe’s growing social concerns. In it, Wolfe describes a party at a fancy New York City apartment building on Park Avenue. (Specifically, the Hotel Marguery, now the site of the JP Morgan Chase building.) The Hotel Marguery was built above railroad tracks that led to Grand Central Terminal, and Wolfe describes the people who live in the apartment feeling the vibrations of the trains passing underneath. This becomes a vivid symbol of the working class rumbling underneath the wealthy above them. It’s also a symbol of the building being built literally over, or on the backs of, the lower class. Wolfe casts his net wide in the story, giving the reader little portraits of many different characters. The sculptor Alexander Calder shows up as “Piggy Hartwell” in the story, performing his circus act with tiny wire figures of his own creation. Wolfe was not impressed with Calder’s act, and according to the story, neither were most of the guests at the party. Maybe Calder’s mobiles would have been more to Wolfe’s taste?
The Short Novels of Thomas Wolfe has been out of print for years. That’s unfortunate, because it gives readers a chance to see Wolfe’s mastery of the short novel, or novella, format, and it also affords us the opportunity to see how his work was presented in magazines during his lifetime.
December 28, 2023
Much like its cousin volume ("The Complete Short Stories"), this is not really a "collection of short novels" -- since much of this came from Thomas Wolfe's massive manuscript, THE OCTOBER FAIR, and became the basis for OF TIME AND THE RIVER and the three posthumous books the came after that. To tell you the truth, I don't think "The Web of Earth" and "No Door" stand on their own merits. They are better absorbed into the later work. "Bascom Hawke" is an interesting character study and the version here appears to be partially Gantified. "I Have a Thing to Tell You" gives us a startlingly vivid portrait of 1930s Nazi Germany. "The Party at Jack's" shows Wolfe in a lot more control than he usually is and demonstrates the tighter direction he would have moved in had he not died so tragically young. This is probably more for Wolfe die-hards who are as fascinated as I am with the shoehorning of stray material and the early efforts Wolfe made to push out of his autofiction.
July 6, 2017
nice story that show how life drive people over Uncertain Circumstances.
March 9, 2020
"Sin embargo,toda esta estupenda orgía de libros no me daba tranquilidad, paz ni sabiduría en la mente ni en el corazón. En vez de ello aumentaban mi furia y mi desesperación con lo mismo de lo que se alimentaban, aumentaba mi hambre con la comida que ingería"
Una serie de relatos, viajes y crónicas, no es lo mejor que he leído de Tom Wolfe, pero siempre es entretenido leerlo
Una serie de relatos, viajes y crónicas, no es lo mejor que he leído de Tom Wolfe, pero siempre es entretenido leerlo
December 5, 2023
Wolfe es cálido en el entretejido de sus historias. Sus novelas son una odisea, un maratón enorme entre descripciones tan entrañables cómo enreveradas.
Aquí no es la excepción y la primera mitad es tan brutal que ayuda a mantener a flote el resto.
No es para todos. Pero es un genio indiscutible.
Aquí no es la excepción y la primera mitad es tan brutal que ayuda a mantener a flote el resto.
No es para todos. Pero es un genio indiscutible.
Displaying 1 - 11 of 11 reviews