Il latte dei sogni

by Leonora Carrington, Livia Signorini (Translator)

Una delle stanze di casa Carrington, in Messico, era coperta di disegni di Leonora, che facevano paurissima ai bambini. Per tranquillizzarli, allora, la mamma cominciò a raccontare (e a illustrare) storie molto fantastiche e molto buffe, via via raccolte in un quadernetto privato. Che ora, tanti anni dopo, è diventato un libro diverso da tutti.

Genres: Art, Short Stories, Fiction, Poetry, Childrens, Fantasy, Picture Books

60 pages, Hardcover

First published January 1, 2013

About the author

Leonora Carrington was an English-born Mexican artist, surrealist painter, and novelist. She lived most of her adult life in Mexico City, and was one of the last surviving participants in the Surrealist movement of the 1930s. Carrington was also a founding member of the Women’s Liberation Movement in Mexico during the 1970s.

Reviews

[s.penkevich [hiatus-will return-miss you all] · Rating 3 out of 5]

Leonora Carrington is a favorite art weirdo of mine and if you would like to raise the next great art weirdo then I have the book for you: The Milk of Dreams from Carrington herself. Carrington was such a brilliant and unique figure of the surrealist movement whose paintings were as fantastic as they were phantasmagorical and her stories and novels equally so and The Milk of Dreams collects her charming talents in small works aimed at children. Imagine if Shel Silverstein leaned so far into the absurd he tore through the fabric of the universe and sketched his fever dreams on blackboard of the cosmos as, in fact, many of the art found here are images Carrington’s son, Gabriel Weisz Carrington, remembers seeing drawn on the walls of his childhood home. Collected from her notebooks of stories she’d create to tell her own children, the stories here are slight on moral or narrative clarity but each allows the imagination to refract reality into the whimsical and weird, opening up a world of possibility that embraces the idea of transformation. As Gabriel once said, his mother’s vision ‘opens possibility: she gives you the possibility to imagine,’ and the ability to imagine and believe in transformation is one of the greatest gifts a child can carry into adulthood. While The Milk of Dreams is a bit slight and not quite the level of art on tends to expect (its mostly quick sketches) it is still a wild ride of the fantastical with boys who have wings for ears, vultures stuck in gelatin, flowers made from meat and all sorts of bonkers imagery that would border on nightmarish if it wasn’t so fun and silly.

Carrington having a book of bizarre children’s stories just seems a natural extension to her work and I love that she chronicled the strange stories she would make up for bedtime entertainment. Her work has always brushed up against childlike mystery, which makes sense as surrealism tends to tear aside the veil of reality in all its constructs and rules to expose the abstract wilderness underneath. I mean, take her typical paintings for instance, such as Baño de pájaros (1974) which would work just as well in a children’s book while still giving wonderment to adult viewers.

Unfortunately the artwork here isn’t quite up to that level, nor was it intended to be and works as a nice flourish to these brief little tales. Most are just very quick sketches with little detail beyond a single line, though even in those you can feel Carrington’s style and they remind me a bit of the art in The Hearing Trumpet.

Though images like the one above and to the right reminds me more of her sculpture work, such as The Palmist which I’ve always found eerily awesome as if it was some cleric in the realm of the Pale Man from Del Toro’s Pan’s Labyrinth (a very favorite film of mine, if you haven’t seen it please do!).

I also love the title The Milk of Dreams which reminds me of that scene in Billy Madison where the teacher tells him “No milk will ever be our milk, Billy.” But this is a quick and quirky little book that gives a fun, fresh perspective on a beloved artist and gives surrealism lovers an outlet to share that love with the little readers that may be in their lives. Or themselves, theres no shame.

3.5/5

[MJ Nicholls · Rating 5 out of 5]

If you are one of the brave heroes who have brought a child into this repulsive, violent, and rather unsavoury world (and we need heroes like you), and you want to show your young creature the wonders of the surreal imagination, and the loveliness of language, then frankly, I can think of no finer book than this charming and twisted sequence of hilarious mini-stories featuring a house-headed man, a bat-eared boy, and a vulture with a taste for gelatin. And that title: a more enticing one rarely exists.

[Mir · Rating 3 out of 5]

I really like the idea of a Surrealist artist's picture book, and I'm glad this was reissued, but I can't say I especially love any of the illustrations or little stories. And I say this as a fan of both her painting and fiction.

[Paula Mota · Rating 5 out of 5]

4,5*

Eis aqui
três caixotes:
o Verde
o Rosa,
e lá dentro
o caixotinho
que morde.

Era com “O Leite dos Sonhos”, o alimento da imaginação sem espartilhos, que Leonora Carrington também nutria os seus filhos, inventando histórias estrambóticas para lhes contar e cobrindo as paredes de um dos quartos com os seus desenhos fantasiosos e, por vezes, horripilantes, que mais tarde deram origem a este livro.
As histórias de Leonora, pintora e escritora surrealista exilada no México, seguem a tradição dos contos mais mórbidos e cruéis dos Irmãos Grimm, de Heinrich Hoffman e Roald Dahl, com um trunfo maior que são as ilustrações verdadeiramente mirabolantes que os acompanham.
Apesar de dispensar a descrição de excreções na literatura, penso que na infância o humor escatológico não só faz sentido, como, pela minha experiência, é um enorme sucesso entre os mais novos. É disso exemplo “A terrífica história dos pedacinhos de carne” e “A cruel história do chá de camomila”.

O Senhor Bigode Bigodaço tem duas caras – come moscas, dança -, eis aqui o seu peru.
E esta é a sua filhota que come aranhas – ela está doente.
Para acabar, eis a Senhora Bigode Bigodaço de pernas para o ar. São todos mesmo muito feios.
O coelhinho é bonito, mas não é deles.

[Katya]

O espírito libertário e contestatário de Leonora Carrington é tão apropriado para o nosso mês da Revolução que não resisto a usá-lo como desculpa para continuar a ler os magníficos livros desta mulher-mito* - mesmo que sejam apenas esboços traçados num pequenino caderno com o objetivo de adormecer os filhos rebeldes ou acalamá-los antes de uma refeição. O que sejam, estas pequeninas histórias que Leonora Carrington fixou em papel são verdadeiros objets d'art para qualquer admirador.
Em curtíssimas vinhetas, ilustradas sem pretensiosismo, O leite dos sonhos traz ao leitor personagens tão memoráveis como Juan sem cabeça, o senhor Bigode Bigodaço ou (a senhora) Mostrengo de Chihuahua - que, sem marido, filhos nem família é feliz com as suas bugigangas e as suas paixões platónicas (tomem lá, convenções sociais!) -, e histórias tão castiças como A gelatina e o abutre, A cruel história do chá de camomila, ou a magnífica História negra da mulher branca cujo alma colorida se revela como que por magia através da música da sua flauta.
Mas o encanto não se fica por aí, e entre uma boa dose de surreal e humor, há lugar para fábulas moralistas (à la Carrington, claro, ensinando mais a criar novas regras do que a respeitar as que já existem), para contar o onírico e o surreal, subverter papéis, dar a conhecer animaizinhos fofinhos, monstros e outras criaturas fantásticas. Se isto adormecia uma criança, eu já não sou desse tempo. Cá por mim teria rido à gargalhada com a moral enviesada, o inesperado e o grotesco destas histórias.
Seja numa vertente artística mais formal, num contexto literário, ou simplesmente a dar curso à imaginação para entreter (e nutrir) os seus pequenos, Leonora Carrington não consegue ser nada menos do que brilhante!


A história negra da mulher branca

*31 Mulheres - Uma exposição de Peggy Guggenheim (atualmente em exibição no MAC/CCB) - a propósito, grande Guggenheim a quem o CCB não consegue fazer toda a justiça! - também deu o mote para me lançar mais a fundo na obra literária de algumas surrealistas. Todavia, como quem não quer a coisa, Leonora foi tomando o espaço das restantes que continuam a aguardar a sua vez. Da minha parte, não barafusto.

[Peter Landau · Rating 5 out of 5]

My eight-year-old daughter woke me up screaming in the middle of the night. She ran into my bed and huddled besides me folded up with her face hidden between her legs. In the morning she didn’t remember what frightened her, but I have my suspicion. I blame THE MILK OF DREAMS by Leonora Carrington. I read the whole book to her in bed that night. She didn’t say a word as I slowly went through each story, weirder than the next, with decapitations and bodily fluids. I showed her Carrington’s colorful scribbles that accompanied her surreal prose. My daughter said nothing, but I know those dark visions followed her to sleep and now reside in her unconscious mind. I think she’s luckier for it.

[cypt · Rating 5 out of 5]

SNOB-READ. Kai "Eureka" gavo knygą, paskaičiau aprašymą ir nusprendžiau, kad ne man. Bet kai šitą knygą išsirinko Venecijos bienalės "tituline" - nu tada jau griebiau. Labai gražus pasirinkimas: kaip rašo organizatoriai, tai ir laisvė, ir buvimas užrakintam (psichiatrijos ligoninėse, namuose, savo galvoje). Labai karantiniška, kai užsidarymas tiek išorinis, tiek vidinis, kai bet koks bendravimas su kitu tampa va toks kaip pas Carrington - keliagalvis, keliakojis, nebežinai, koks atstumas priimtinas, kokie gestai į kokią erdvę gali pakliūti, o kokie jau ne.

Šioje knygoje Carrington vis dar be galo (vos neparašiau be proto) keista, neturi to šalto atsitapatinimo kaip jos įspūdingieji memuarai Down Below. Panašesnė į Klausymo ragelio Carrington: jos siurrealizmas toks popiktis, negailestingas. Nors tai vaikiški eilėraštukai (ir iliustracijos) ir rašyti / paišytos sūnums, bet tai labiau piktos tetos tekstai, o ne tralialia įsivaizduokime gyvūnėlius / moralus pasakojimai. Šituo tonu - nesicackinimu, negailestingumu, iki kurio netgi Macoureko pasakos Du šimtai senelių nedrįsta priartėti, - knyga mane visiškai papirko. Pvz: gražuoliukas berniukas Humbertas, kuris gąsdino ir kankino visas mergaites, kol viena jų jam į lovą įkišo krokodilą. Bet Humbertas buvo toks gražus, kad krokodilas pametė galvą ir nuo tol gražuolis Humbertas buvo dar bjauresnis, nes visur vaikščiodavo su krokodilu. Arba kaip berniukas per balkoną apsisiodavo praeivius, bet tada pas jį į kambarį atskrido dramblys ir arklys, apsisiojo patį berniuką ir prikakojo jam į ramunėlių arbatą. Nekalbant apie visus, kuriems - dažniausiai vaikams - kas nors nupjauna galvas, paskui prideda atgal, bet dažniausiai neteisingai: apsuktą, ant rankos, ant užpakalio :D

Aišku, kai atpasakoji, atrodo kaip blogas Erlickas, bet užtenka paskaityti ją pačią!

The Lawyer's Son

Jeremy was the son of a Lawyer.
He liked making little holes in the sofa.
They looked like little mouths.
Jeremy put food into the little holes of the sofa.
He gave them bread and butter, bacon, spinach, and meat sandwiches.
The holes became more and more like mouths. They grew teeth to chew the food.
One day Jeremy forgot to give the little holes their dinner.
One of the got cross and bit the Layer when he sat down to read his newspaper.
"You'd better look out," said the Lawyer, and he had all the little mouths sewn up so that they could only say "Mmmmmmmmmmm."
Jeremy made a very small hole under the sofa and pushed up vitamins.
The sofa got very thin, but its legs grew. Nobody can sit on it any more.
Only the madman with wings.
It can't be cleaned, it's too tall.
(p. 52-53)

Aišku, galima čia, kaip ir visą siurrealizmą, aiškinti pagal Freudą ar Jungą, bet net nelabai ir norisi. Tiesiog gražu, ypač tas užsukimas gale.

Ir jos iliustracijos!




Ką reiškia augti su tokiom pasakom, tokiais piešiniais numargintam kambary? Bandau įsivaizduot, ir galvon netelpa. Paskui ir išeina vienas sūnus poetas ir vertėjas (ir dalį šios knygelės tekstų išvertęs), o kitas - gydytojas-tapytojas (iliustravęs mano turimą The Hearing Trumpet leidimą). Ne Adamsai, bet žiauriai gera šeimynėlė turėjo būti :D

[Nate D]

Skeletal stories for inventive children without much need of logic or clear moral polarity. Not that these are without insight of a kind, for those willing to absorb it. Carrington wrote these tiny stories for her own children, and we're lucky to have them in print now, and accompanied by her occult-naive drawing as well.

[Sara · Rating 4 out of 5]

What the hell did I just read?!

Feb 2025

[Uzma Ali · Rating 3 out of 5]

My 3rd Carrington (after The Hearing Trumpet, then Down Below) and the most absurd yet. Her prose carries this blunt style while her plots challenge reality... a combo I think lends itself well to a children's book. Well, how would I know? I'm not a child. Maybe they'd be petrified.

The shortest of fables find refuge in this dainty collection, intermingling with doodles Carrington drew for her own children. I'm glad we can marvel at them together. They're silly, yet still harbor some secret menace, I think. We learn of John, who has wings for ears, or Lolita, who beheads children, curiously reading along as Carrington fuses cautionary tales with delectable whimsy. It's just a buttload of silly.

Some stories make more sense than others. It's fun to decode what each mean, if they mean anything at all. There was a brief few pages where I was not sure we were still following the same story, as it fractured into disorder, illustrations took on more colors, altogether losing the plot. It's fun to lose yourself in her world, though I don't know if I like the feeling of walking without a handrail for steadiness. And I don't know what to rate this. Nothing feels right so I just went right in the middle. What can I say guys? I giggled, I cowered. I'll refer to it often come the future. But I just got my edition of her completed stories and I'm more excited to read those. I think the childrens' were too bite-sized to satiate.

[Hetian bias · Rating 5 out of 5]

if I have kids I’m reading this to them every night and it’s going to form the basis of their personalities in that everyone will find their witchy enlightened enigmatic auras irresistible idgaf that the drawings are juvenile compared to her paintings idc that there’s no clear point meant to be made from the plots this is pure imagination for imagination’s sake (the only way out of our dumb fuck selves btw) this is the summer of the inner child sit down and pay attention

[Matteo Fumagalli · Rating 5 out of 5]

Videorecensione: https://youtu.be/lhlzd-5zD-Q

[Pola Fiesco · Rating 5 out of 5]

MI LIBRO MI LIBRO MI LIBRO FAVORITO LEONORA CARRINGTON TE AMO CASATE CONMIGO TE ESCRIBO POR LA OUIJA SI QUIERES OMGOMGOMGOMG

[Aya୭ৎ · Rating 4 out of 5]

i love weird (creative) people <3

[Jip · Rating 4 out of 5]

roald dahl walked so leonora carrington could run

[Anna · Rating 3 out of 5]

L'edizione italiana ha una veste grafica deliziosa. Ha anche la cortesia di riportare sul retro le seguenti parole: 'Una delle stanze di casa Carrington, in Messico, era coperta di disegni di Leonora, che facevano paurissima ai bambini. Per tranquillizzarli, allora, la mamma cominciò a raccontare (e a illustrare) storie molto fantastiche e molto buffe, via via raccolte in un quadernetto privato. Che ora, tanti anni dopo, é diventato un libro diverso da tutti'.
Meno male, perché senza queste parole di cornice, il libro mi sarebbe risultato completamente incomprensibile.
Non tanto per i contenuti surreali (ovviamente), ma perchè la parola chiave qui è 'privato': come a dire che le storielle che si raccontano per far ridere i propri bambini sono sempre quelle, e si avvalgono sempre degli stessi stratagemmi comici grossolani a base di prodotti corporei (quando non si nutrono dei più rodati clichè macabri delle fiabe), anche se a narrare è una mamma di nome Leonora Carrington.

[Maud Weijers · Rating 3 out of 5]

this is for the strange quiet kids who couldn’t relate to anyone and therefore escaped into their weird little books

[DeanJean · Rating 5 out of 5]

Leonora Carrington is the surrealist version of Happy Three Friends. People get decapitated but are simply put back together with chewing gum, and other sticking substitutes. If she were still alive, I would have loved to meet her in person, if possible.

[Ila ♡⁎⁺˳✧༚ ☆⁎⁺ · Rating 4 out of 5]

Que inquieta era la mente de Leonora, pareciera rima pareciera prosa pero solo era latosa

[Castles · Rating 3 out of 5]

Pretty eerie for a children's book, but who knows, maybe kids don't really need the sugar coat on everything. anyway, my interest in this book came as an introduction to the artistic world of Carrington, and her contribution to surrealism.

[Sofia Sita · Rating 4 out of 5]

Ho riso abbondantemente e sono rimasta inquietata dai disegni più di quanto pensassi. Molto molto carino, sono contenta di averlo preso perchè è proprio una chicca.

[Daniela · Rating 5 out of 5]

Pola tenías razón 😭

[archive · Rating 5 out of 5]

Leonora wrote and illustrated these stories for her children. In collection form, it is a testament that she was head of her time. Her art forms transcends the contemporary into her own world

[Andrew · Rating 4 out of 5]

the drawings are so cool

[Kimley · Rating 5 out of 5]

A wonder for both children and adults.

[lisa · Rating 5 out of 5]

ik wil ook vleugels als oren hebben en mijn hoofd weg laten vliegen, of groenblauwe tranen laten als kleine papegaaien

[Hojaplateada · Rating 4 out of 5]

Son cuentos infantiles (y surrealistas) que les escribió a sus hijos, en castellano. Interesante. La edición es genial.

[Margaryta]

There is no way for me to rate this book because it feels like that defies the point. I really loved some of the illustrations, which I guess would mean this would be at least a 3/5. Some of the stories were deeply morbid in an enjoyable way, reminding me of Tim Burton's Oyster Boy collection. Others were morbid in a way that did not end up having any moral/satisfying resolution to them, which was fun to read because it reminded me of what Antoine de Saint-Exupery said about children's imaginations and the way they tell stories in a much more nonlinear way. The story I think I will remember the most was about the woman in black. The image of her crying blue tears that become birds of paradise was beautiful. It's wonderful that texts like this still exist and can be enjoyed today because they are about so much more than just getting something out of a story. There is a level of enjoyment and letting go that I often crave in literature and am always thrilled when a text makes me almost fall into it and helps me turn the critical-analytical part of my mind off for a bit.

[Padraig · Rating 5 out of 5]

A little book to bust your head open a tiny crack. Leonora Carrington’s house, the back of the book tells us, was covered in murals and she told her sons made up stories about the pictures. The pictures are images from her murals she copied down in a sketchbook. These short stories capture the silliness of the best of children’s stories and in their wickedness feel like Roald Dahl. There are probably 40 sentences in the whole thing, but they jump so lightly into the absurd at any moment it is full of surprises. A couch with holes in it that become mouths for nourishment , roses grotesquely protected against insects, a boy punished for peeing on strangers from a window. It’s wild and lovely and sure to get squeals from children. Bought my copy at Shakespeare and Co. in Paris and it was more fun than any esoteric novel might have been.

[DeAnna Knippling · Rating 4 out of 5]

A children's not-a-children's children's book.

Short, awful tales of muder, transformation, and abandonment, for children, sketches of new fairytales in the making. Brilliant, but only as sketches--they needed to be fleshed out.

Recommended for dreamy adults and bloodthirsty children.