November, the month of the dead. For its beginning with the memory of those who left, for its autumn scent as gray as intense reddish colors, for being the prelude to winter that strips nature and extinguishes life. And at the end of all life is his sister: death.
Because Death passes by our side every day and greets us courteously, even if we don't see it.. He usually always smiles because he is always waiting for us. In a thousand ways, gentle or cruel, undeserved or liberating, cowardly or brave. And there are billions of stories in which it appears or inspires. I choose these 6 readings that I stand out for how they helped me understand the value or the visions of those forms. I already greeted her in a second once, but for those threads that handle chance, destiny, a divine will or simply the process of existing, I still wait for her.
The Tell-Tale Heart - Edgar Allan Poe
The madness of death
Because if there is someone who wrote about death in its darkest and insane planes That was the Boston teacher. In this short story along with that of the The oval portrait horror and madness are combined in equal parts, and for me they are the most shocking.
Conscience eaten up by a murderer's remorse he begins to hear the heartbeat of his victim under the ground. That destroyed heart that beats again until it drives him crazy. Death that takes revenge without mercy from its most abject origin. A storytelling prodigy of the one who treated that living death as his best and most loyal friend, who did not fail him in his revelries and delusions and took him away soon. Too much for as much genius as the great Poe should have given us.
I'm fine - JJ Benitez
The dimensions of death
Because who really knows what he has in store for us afterwards? The only certain thing is that nobody has returned. But there are many who do seem to have done it halfway through and were able to distinguish something beyond an aseptic scientific explanation. There are some privileged (or not) who have contacted those who also left beyond a confusion with some kind of madness.
Yes, it is JJ Benítez, world authority on paranormal phenomena and in reaching out to a Jesus extraordinarily Jesus on his Trojan horses. But there is always someone, or rather many, who is passionate about the unknown, those plans that do not mean to believe that they do not exist.
Anna franks Diary - Anna Frank
DEATH with capital letters
Because Anna Frank saw her, her and so many millions more, in her most cruel, ruthless and abominable appearance: the one that the human being is capable of conceiving and executing when he has lost his soul or never had it.
The DEATH that the little Dutch Jewess saw has not been repeated in this way or circumstances. But it hasn't disappeared and, to the amazement (or not) of the supposedly more advanced human race (ide), the winds of hell are blowing again.
The DEATH that Anna Frank saw has apparently haunted us constantly. Because maybe, actually, it's the one all without exception can give, receive and carry within.
Under the wheels - Herman Hesse
The death of sensitivity
This intimate story written by Hesse in 1906, based on some personal experience, is the narration of a demoralizing override of a teenager's personality. Hans giebenrath he is a pride for his father. Academic successor to whom all the doors are opened due to his dedication and achievements, but are closed when Hans feels that his passion for studying has become an obsession fueled by the pressure of his environment.
His sensitive character first rebels, then is accepted, assumed and ends up resigning before the failure to which they have doomed. Until it ends up breaking.
Maybe it was because he read it when he was a little older than Hans, but the evolution of his literary existence moved me so much that I keep rereading it occasionally. And for me it will always be immortal.
The dog of the Baskervilles - Arthur Conan Doyle
The monster of death
A monster ein the shape of a huge dog, which attacks and kills without mercy in the English wastelands full of mystery. Yes i was Sherlock Holmes To solve it. And both were the metaphors of superstition and science, of horror in the face of the unknown and reason always looking for an explanation. In short, what we want to explain in words, understand with our limited human capacity.
Sherlock helps us, He investigates together with Watson these strange crimes in an atmosphere of that superstition that also hides dark revenge with the Baskerville masters and their mansion. Y it ends, of course, by finding the solution and the motive that appease the fear and misunderstanding. But it only appeases them. There are many Baskerville dogs that we create for ourselves every day. And those who stalk us. We are never really safe from them, not even Sherlock Holmes.
The Canterville Ghost - Oscar Wilde
Kind death
Because who does not want to have in his English castle, or in his house, a ghost like Sir Simon of Canterville? Who cannot feel commiseration at the misfortune of wandering through cold rooms and galleries? Dragging heavy chains, painting puddles of blood, and trying to scare those disbelievers, pesky, yankee yankers who buy your eternal home without success?
Who has not had the fifteen years of Virginia Otis and has not taken pity on him? Who wouldn't help him like her to rest in peace once and for all? No one. Y Sir Simon Canterville reached that long-awaited rest but continues to wander, and will, through all our dream castles and books, of longings that, perhaps, in death, we continue to exist without being feared or wandering shadows, but as spirits like him. Thanks to Oscar Wilde we can do it. They sure met again.