Free Indian Frequenzy

Today is the day the book. Or rather, the day we celebrate that we buy books. Every time I'm more skeptical about these "day." The day the book is the day you read books (if you're a biblioadicta, every day).

Today I want to make this blog a new section: the guest commentator. Once a month, I'd like one of the readers of this blog (some, writers of other blogs) to do the entry, thus providing a new point of view. You can talk about whatever you want.

To inaugurate I thought Rachel, a good friend (digital and outside the internet) which, as you have seen, is one of the first to comment all the entries. Rachel, avid reader, like me, has decided to share with us the review of a book (great, I'd say).

From now on, the blog is all yours. Thank you for participating, Raquel.

The hand of good fortune, Goran Petrović

opened the "guest commentator" talking about a book.

Why this book? Because I found it very special, because Goran Petrović is a great unknown in our country. Not in Serbia, where this novel won the NIN, the largest Serb recognition of letters.

The novel, heiress of magical realism, is a marvel. It is a novel that is read only, but is able to transport you to a literary world full of smells, tastes, textures and sounds wonderful. In this world the characters are the books and we, the readers.

From what I've seen is hard to find this author translated into English, and only the Sixth Floor editorial makes us accessible.

If ever reaches your hands this book, by accidents of life or of fate, Do not miss the chance to step into your pages. You will not regret.

Book Summary:
The Hand of Good Fortune is that, a place where all who approach him, they discover that the cold reality that can not provide: the warm feeling of existence. With this book, Goran Petrović achieved what rarely gets: sculpt a more perfect piece of living literature called Absolute. The hand of good fortune recounts different love stories that revolve around a very peculiar book, My Legacy, by Anastas Branica. At first glance this is a book where there is no plot, no characters, just descriptions. However, that's what makes it a self-sufficient space in a world that can only be inhabited by his readers, the only real players. Anastas wrote the book to live in his beloved, because reality does not stop being a pale sketch of what truly represents my legacy. From what Petrović called simultaneous reading, you may agree with others in the same book, and not only that, but also to live what is beyond the simply written. What else can we describe what happens to us when we read with real conviction, when books become alive, palpable, manifest, when the books become part of our physiology, when love is embodied in the two unknown reading carried out time, waiting time is abolished by the mere fact of setting his sights on a page. In short, what the reader of this book will surely experience, together with all other readers that match it will be a state of joyful amazement (abstract editorial)