Actresses Claire Bloom and Philip Roth lived a deep, suspenseful and terrible love story that began in a delirious and war-torn marriage.
Because there was a war between them, which between the divorce and when the actress published her memoir under the title Adiós and casa de muñecas (2015), brought the writer to the point of depression that brought him to the brink of death.
No, it was para menos. In these memories, Bloom portrayed Roth as a mezquin, cruel and inaccessible, an absolute bord. Roth, a dead man, I can’t stand it. A related actress, among other episodes of Bochorna, whom Roth began watching after the divorce and invited her to come on a certain day every week, I think I would have experienced miracles.
Why is it a writer’s contumacy to continue visiting his ex-wife who was previously with a new wife and lover? She thought about it on one occasion, in the middle of one of those few moments that ended in trifles and crying for any tonteria. “Keep on jodiéndote,” protested Roth with a triumphant smile.
I read every case of Roth’s novels, which makes me a novelist literary integrity and irreconcilable writer, although he is portrayed as he is in some relationships, he is an indescribably cynical and rude person.
Roth was posed by what John Dos Passos called in his memoirs, The inevitable yearselectricity genus irritant vatum: gen (or genius or género) irritable of poets.
Short-tempered, sober, malcriado, intolerableRoth was a bad man. I told you that he confessed his own human sins over and over again in his literary writing and eventually invented a new professor, Coleman Silk, who was on his own literary journey.
It is carried in the book ‘Adiós a la casa de muñecas’.
A journalist once asked Roth in an interview if he wrote it every day. “I write two pages a day,” the writer struggled with hardness. The reporter was surprised: it seemed like little work. An exasperated Roth did a dance through the grip, “That’s 700 pages a year!” I said triumphantly before collapsing. It was Roth, before and after Claire Bloom, always haunted by her gluttony genus irritabile vatum.
She maintained her discipline and did not allow any new seasoned journalist to give her a hair for the many balls from the seas that were out there.
En ace, en el genusThere was another admirable writer: adventurer and story inventor Ernest Hemingway. I’m sure some of the many women who went through their torturous lives may have written semi-beautiful memoirs to what Claire Bloom wrote about Roth, but His temper was known throughout the world. A boxing expert, Hemingway liked to work his three-point punches.
It’s a story that one day he flew from Havana to Laguardia Airport in New York just to give a thumbs up to a critic who wrote about one of his novels. He entered the restaurant Costa Vasca, 55, between 4th and 5th Avenida, met the critic, told her about his punishment, flew to Laguardia airport and was at his home in Havana that night.
It is a story with which the Cuban writer Lisandro Otero wanted to greet and admire him again. Hemingway was in his favorite corner of El Floridita, listening to his daiquiris and giving the same advice.
When the latter grabbed him with open arms, Hemingway challenged him with a punch that hit the Cuban writer. “To learn that a writer doesn’t mind writing,” I told her wildly and triumphantly.
Back to Roth. There was no reason for decades of academics among the last five finalists for the Nobel Prize in Literature to finally deny it. Because of his hot temper, because of bad upbringing, because of absolute nonsense? Is it true that you see with literature, with work, with your literary results?
But he was a novelist to be imitated! We would sing the second cock, because we would imitate him in literature for a long time in the 21st century, because today’s writers, with rare exceptions, are determined to write so much about their empty lives and their personal follies. For auto-fiction like Roth and Hemingway, vital, adventurous, violent characters, hot-tempered, sober, but great inventors of history.
Claire Bloom’s Memoirs is an essential act that comes from an extraordinary woman who cannot be compared to an incomparable writer. Look at the case of Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald. And so many more. A writer is hard to live with, even if he is a studious and good person.
It is difficult to live with an alcoholic and not fall into the depths of alcohol. It’s hard and unnecessary to live with a person like Roth, like Claire Bloom’s experience, but such a great writer! However, for many reasonable people, this is not exactly enough, if nothing else.
Leave a Reply