If you're used to read me, you probably know that Melody Nelson is a blogger that I like. At once bold and friendly (everyone who sees you will tell), she writes without shame. The first time I met Melody Nelson, it was after seeing her promotional videos. I fell in love with the process and a friend told me that although I would love this girl. Instant favorite for his smile and his laugh, his confidence and ease. And was careful not to reveal too much of her cleavage, contrary to what I expected.
She was an escort. I was a masseuse. We were courtesans of times and locations. In reading his book, I had a flashback. It describes the profession for what it is, as it is. She moves away enough, describes with a touch of coldness as they saw these particular episodes. We write inevitably surface, without much emotion, these clients succeed. In still feeling each tail differently, being touched for a sentence or a thoughtful gift. Living the art of complex manner, with its many dualities. It is told in bits of stories, never completely in memory that can be imaged to reveal a world that is foreign to most.
Only downside: I sometimes feel that target already in France when describing certain places or events too, so that we forget some that could help image a little more portions of reality.
Overall, I enjoyed. I did not finish many books from the nausea caused by Hell.com Patrick Senecal. Not even the latest Nelly Arcan. I thought I had become insensitive to the books, but Melody Nelson reconciled me with the literature with a book that I was afraid of not being able to finish.
I wish him great success here and elsewhere, for this book and the rest of his work. Recently, I tried not to take offense when asked " So where is the escort? "an evening of promotion because I would have preferred to be called writer that night. I hope they bring him more respect than it has refused to Nelly.
0 comments:
Post a Comment