I will start my blog with an idea that hit me tonight, after a relaxing pilates classes.
Idea struck me very sad.
Yesterday I saw the movie Fahrenheit 451. In one scene, the wife is chatting with her friends watching TV, in a house completely empty of books (for the uninitiated, the possession in the film and reading books are illegal).
The thought that struck me is that I've actually seen a lot of houses so: case in which a book does not come even accidentally, the walls are desperately empty of culture, the only written are the labels of clothes. If your hosts have a book, it is wrong christmas gifts, and the poor example it is uncut and polished in a corner, waiting to yellow without ever having heard the air on the pages. These hosts are often people with degrees, a further confirmation that a degree is not equivalent to almost never have a culture.
What the film is presented as fiction, a flat monotone and uncritical life without books, is actually very real for many people we encounter every day.
Yet there is nothing more beautiful, entering a room, see a huge wall bookcase overflowing with books, possibly read, reread, browsed and searched up to consume ... but maybe I'm just a romantic, I need to upgrade and go to the playstation ;-)
joke! and I return to my beloved garcia marquez :-)
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