LO MEJOR QUE HE LEÍDO, VISTO Y ESCUCHADO EN 2024

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  • Good Material, Dolly Alderton: "(...) And then we met and fell in love and we introduced each other to all of it, like children showing each other their favourite toys. The instinct never goes - look at my fire engine, look at my vinyl collection. Look at all these things I've chosen to represent who I am. It was fun to find out about each other's self-made cultures and make our own hybrid in the years of eating, watching, reading, listening, sleeping and living together. Our culture was tea drink from very large mugs. And looking forward to the Glastonbury ticket day and the new season of Game of Thrones and taking the piss out of ourselves for being just like everyone else. Our culture was over-tipping in restaurants because we both used to work in the service industry, salty popcorn at the cinema and afternoon naps. Side-by-side morning sex. Home-made Manhattans. Barmade Manhattans (much better). Otis Redding's "Cigarettes and Coffee" (our song). Discovering a new song we both loved and listening to it over and over again until we couldn't listen to it any more. Period dramas on a Sunday night. That one perfect vibrator that finished her off in seconds when we were in a rush. Gravy. David Hockney. Truffle crisps. Can you believe it? I still can't believe it. A smell indisputably reminiscent of bums. On a crisp. And yet we couldn't get enough of them together - stuffing them in our gobs, her hand on my chest, me trying not to get crumbs in her hair as we watched Sense and Sensibility (1995). But I'm not a member of that club anymore. No one is. It's been disbanded, dissolved, the domain is no longer valid. So what do I do with all its stuff? Where do I put it all? Where do I take all my new discoveries now I'm no longer a tribe of two? And if I start a new sub-genre of love with someone else, am I allowed to bring in all the things I loved from the last one? Or would that be weird? Why do I find this so hard?”
  • El descontento, Beatriz Serrano: "Pienso en el fingimiento: en las cosas que debemos hacer para sentir otras cosas. Despertarnos, ducharnos, vestirnos, ponernos guapos, fantaseando con que quizás ese día no será como los demás. Pienso en si fingiendo se podrá terminar sintiendo. Pienso en si, en el fondo, no estará todo el mundo igual de desesperado por sentir algo distinto: el vacío en el estómago cuando te montas por primera vez en una montaña rusa, la calidez cuando llegas a casa después de pasar unas semanas fuera. Recuerdo esa sensación. Debe estar por algún lado".



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Lo mejor que he leído, visto y escuchado en 2023

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Leído:

  • No todo el mundo, Marta Jiménez Serrano: 'Es fácil ocupar el tiempo cuando tenemos un objeto en el que cifrar la angustia, hablar de la tía a la que él se tiraba cuando ella lo conoció, o del exnovio de ella que la sigue llamando, pero no es tan fácil ver qué queda después de eso, la ansiedad en espiral sobre sí misma, la relación siendo una conversación sobre la relación, los días vacíos por delante, los diálogos idénticos y vacuos, ¿quieres azúcar en el yogur? -pero ella ya sabe que lo toma sin azúcar-, ¿te traigo algo? -pero él ya sabe que ella no quiere nunca nada-. Hay parejas que se apuntan a salsa. Hay parejas que se enganchan a Netflix. Hay parejas que procrean. Hay parejas que se acaban'. 
  • No good alone, Rayne Fisher-Quann: 'It is a cruel and fundamentally inhuman tragedy that the culture has convinced so many of us that we must be healed in isolation, because being surrounded by people — people who love us, or care for us, or are willing to sit in the same room with us while we clean up our messes — is about the only way that I, for one, have ever been able to get better. I am lucky enough to have been changed again and again and again by the people who have loved me or challenged me; I look back at the person I was at eighteen and I hardly recognize her, which feels like a miracle and a tragedy all at once. Standing between me and my younger self are a thousand different individual experiences of failure and growth and redemption, each a moment of excruciating vulnerability being witnessed by the very people I wish could only see me at my best. It’s driven me to isolate myself, convinced that ritualistic self-punishment and pathetic martyrdom were the only ways I could ever make myself worthy of other people. I realized, though, that I was being a coward. Being alone is hard, to be sure, but it’s also deceptively easy — it requires nothing of us.'

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  • Miley Cyrus -Flowers






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Lo mejor que he leído, visto y escuchado en 2022

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Leído:

  • Beautiful World, Where Are you, Sally Rooney - 'Maybe certain kinds of pain, at certain formative stages in life, just impress themselves into a person's sense of self permanently. Like the way I didn't lose my virginity until I was twenty and it was so painful and awkward and bad, and since then I've always felt like  exactly the kind of person that would happen to, even though before then I didn't. And now I just feel like the kind of person whose life partner would fall out of love with them after several years, and I can't find a way not to be that kind of person anymore.'
  • Estaré sola y sin fiesta, Sara Barquinero - 'Tengo una teoría del amor, ¿sabes? En realidad, sirve para todas las cosas importantes. Cuando estás enamorado no piensas, solo te dejas llevar y no haces las cosas con cabeza. Solo cuando se termina del todo puedes valorarlo: aquí hice bien, aquí mal, esto me convenía, esto otro no. Pero solo al final del camino, no mientras pasa. Así que tienes que vivir muchas historias de amor y aprender. Para que así, cuando toque la buena, lo hagas bien, sin errores, reconociendo las señales: mira, en esto es idéntica a Adela, aquí es igual que cuando me equivoqué con Carmen, esta cosa que no soporto es lo que me hizo romper con Clara. Pero eso solo lo puedes entender cuando todo ha terminado y ya no tiene solución. Por eso durante esos años yo quería vivir todas las historias posibles, muy rápido. Para estar preparado cuando viniese la buena'.
  • Fierce Attachments, Lena Dunham: 'As a fantasy and nostalgia addict who is now married, I wondered if I would have pangs for old flames, if I would see pictures of men I had once donned Little Black Dresses for and dream of running into them on an empty corner. We are early yet, but it hasn’t happened and I don’t think I will. When I lie in bed at night, husband already snoring, my mind goes back to the women who were in my life and are no longer. The friend who took me all through Tribeca eating at fancy restaurants and never being handed a bill because of her arresting beauty. The one I took long walks around Brooklyn with, talking about romance novels and manor houses, whose motherhood journey forked away from mine and a silent chasm opened. The blonde who told me, in no uncertain terms, my circumstances had become a bit heavy for her, and the artist who I thought would always be a phone call away but who somehow simply isn’t. The smell of the bedsheets in my best friend’s house, how we lay there prone after big parties dissecting every interaction we found spicy. And her. And her and her and her and her and her.'
  • Confessions of a Perpetually Single Woman, Morgan Parker: 'The problem is time. It shouldn’t matter, but it does. Time means regret. Regret means self-punishment. It’s not just the general embarrassment of having the romantic subplot of my movie being introduced so late into act 2, it’s also the close-fitting sense that time runs out faster for women like me. What if I die before getting a look at myself in the bright mirror that is partnership, before tasting what everybody’s talking about? Before finding somewhere to pour this devotion I’ve stored up, all this romance I’ve accumulated and dreamed? I’m a poet who’s never experienced true romantic love; I believe this is an American tragedy.'
  • Ghosts, Dolly Alderton: 'Being a heterosexual woman who loved men meant being a translator for their emotions, a palliative nurse for their pride and a hostage negotiator for their egos.'
  • On Nighttime, Hanif Abdurraqib: 'I learned to value the way a voice can interrupt longing. How it builds a bridge that feels real from the place you are to the place you want to be. How its familiar sound can heal and reassure under even the worst circumstances.' (...) 'That’s the miracle, too. The impossibility isn’t in the breakup, but in whatever comes after. The very fact that someone can be driven to write a love song and then a breakup song about the same person. The thing that happens when people are with someone and they can’t imagine a world without them. The thing that happens when people fall out of love and can’t imagine the world they had before. The song, becoming something newer and better as an old wound closes, or a new wound opens up. The pink light of dawn is a salve or a scar, depending on who is doing the looking and what the night offered up or stole away.'

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