By Adolfo Bioy Casares
A Russian Doll and different tales, released in Spanish in 1991 as Una muneca rusa, is the 9th selection of brief fiction through one in every of this century's most desirable Argentinian writers who, together with his fellow countrymen Julio Cortazar and Jorge Luis Borges, helped swap the world's conception of Latin American literature. Bioy Casares' narratives are dependent and urbane, his sort particular and streamlined, as he paces his characters via seriocomic traps of destiny - ensnared by.
Love, impelled through lust, ambition, or undeniable greed, even metamorphosed via prescription drugs. those should not tales in a mental mode yet just like the snapshot of the Russian doll of the identify piece are rigorously wrought congeries of intractable selves inside selves. Read more...
summary: A Russian Doll and different tales, released in Spanish in 1991 as Una muneca rusa, is the 9th selection of brief fiction by way of one among this century's most advantageous Argentinian writers who, together with his fellow countrymen Julio Cortazar and Jorge Luis Borges, helped switch the world's belief of Latin American literature. Bioy Casares' narratives are stylish and urbane, his variety specific and streamlined, as he paces his characters via seriocomic traps of destiny - ensnared by.
Love, impelled through lust, ambition, or undeniable greed, even metamorphosed through prescribed drugs. those aren't tales in a mental mode yet just like the snapshot of the Russian doll of the name piece are rigorously wrought congeries of intractable selves inside of selves
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Additional resources for A Russian doll and other stories
This lame dame really loves herself,” he thought. The furniture in the apartment was ancient and quite beautiful, but what attracted my friend’s attention was a Russian doll. “A gift from my father,” she said. “I must have been very young or very silly, because my father thought it necessary to explain that it had identical dolls inside, which were smaller. ” “As if it had been made to measure,” she confirmed, from the doorway. That Saturday he went to the ball. He had to present an invitation card.
I exclaimed, sincerely perplexed. “This is it. ” I took a few steps back and looked at the building: it wasn’t small, but neither was it palatial, though at the height of the fourth story I could read, in large letters: Palace Hotel. In the spacious lobby, with worn-looking chairs, I went over to the reception desk. There, instead of the predictable fellow in a black jacket, a pretty young woman dressed in a gray house smock attended to me. “Your room is twenty-four,” she said. ” She was lame.
The first question,” said the journalist, “is: What did you see at the bottom of the lake? ” Maceira tried to be truthful, not to leave anything out, except his personal reactions. He wanted to be objective. The journalist listened to him in silence. Then he begged him to talk more about the caterpillar. “Was it very big? ” “Four meters at least. ” Finally the journalist left. Maceira asked the nurse if Mademoiselle Chantal Cazalis had come to visit him or had asked for him. He was told no. ” “It’s the blonde you were expecting?