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Gemma's birth home

The
conceived and gave birth to the greatest of care. As a holder who is known for a few seconds, the materialization of an abstract entity, Alexander caught between his fingers something close to the concept of goodness. It had taken months to shape, touch up your edges to make the nails of his feet and rounded small branches, the whole white of his soul. That's why we bother, especially those critics branded him a hypocrite character Nora. They knew nothing about it. Nora's intention is not far from that of a femme fatal. When leaving Mark, something that seems to be viewed from a merciful view of the author, is found to be a selfish and not as free and kind woman who had hitherto pretended to be, claimed. Alejandro

selfishness could not consider leaving his lover. God was her lover!. She chooses to return to her husband using his ability to choose for the first time: his choice is to refuse to be free and of itself is not that the germ of freedom, choice?. It was definitely a round character, consistent and innocent and therefore necessarily cruel at times. Nora shows their cowardice does not love her husband does not love his life, not love itself. Just love your soul slavery shackles furrowed. Shortly the critical mind that if he continued to bless the work, as before, abusing his fine recreation of poise, courage female. True, it is exposed to these readings as to outline it, avoided the current media had been so successful so far (in the background always hated the simplistic deconstruction of the feminine ideal projected by patriarchal societies and is now sold as modern view feminist cut). Your Nora was devised as a response to this: his great courage was not to fragment the traditional view (fragment means breaking the structures maintaining the base, thought Alexander), but OK once made a choice free. How could suggest, even weakness in their behavior? How could they point out that nothing was known as a paradigm of classical submission?

If she chooses to return home is the fear of insecurity. Right. But Is not this a reason as any to make a decision? Is not it in today's society, more courageous than the flight to which both are used?. After rereading the book several times Alexander still did not understand how anyone could take as little refined interpretation of the reality of the character. And meditating in a comprehensive manner, opted to address Nora facing a new challenge. She, in whom both trust, which he knew so subtle way route through the courageous path of self-assertion, he would be now, with the unexpected presence of her husband's mistress. And so while preparing the work would clean its image in the face of society, I think Gemma's character. A debate occurred to him: to prove the worth of Nora, what lines should be drawn to his rival?. Staying on the surface, the debate would Manichean and over-biased, in other words, his beloved character could be somewhat diluted by the strength of a new creation, alive and sensitive. If Gemma take definite shape, it would risk to see her bleed when pierced his heart faded paper.

Convinced, finally, the need to grant it its own life, went to work. First described his face, less beautiful but more suggestive than Nora. She applied a perfect role of heroine, a sylph of stone with red lips, too fond of freedom itself to choose freely any time. It is your presence, imperturbable, which captures the character. And his eyes with iris seed uncertainties that fixed, ironically to what people see and they just simply looking at what they considered vulgar by the mere fact of being part of what remains unchanging view of all. His first appearance should be, not in front of Nora, if not against her husband. Perhaps in a bohemian cafe, or railway station, when the speaker tells of the departure of the train that takes you home. Then begin the relationship gradually, always subject to the whims of Gemma negotiable. And so would the months. She would throw the man into a deep sense of uncertainty to the fluctuations to which it submits a weekly basis. And Nora? ... Nora should resign themselves to the decision taken freely. He soon forgot his face, forgot the inevitable attraction before your fingers over the tip of the pen. Nora was soon simplify up to see reduced boundless mass of contradictions in a timely decision by which arose from the ashes like the unattainable body of Gemma.

(Picture 1 of Maria alias Cartier Bresson. Figure 2: Woman looking at sea "Caspar Friedrich)

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Pasional brawl

She walked through the door. Sandra did not expect to find there. Even less watering the geraniums. And that face of confusion about unexpected act of terror in the eyes of Leo. The a look that was regarded as just by definition, rather it was a clumsy way of rebuke to the four winds that professed hatred. Those eyes were not looking for Sandra, aluminum tunnels dug in his soul longed to discover its secrets and perhaps hated, not because of their inability to find them empty as the reality of his absence. Finally, the silence gave way to the interrogation stopped. Where she was, with whom, doing that. His answers were concise innocent, it seems that even sincere. But Leo could not help but notice his hands. Concealed buds fingers twisting until, suddenly, stretched, so that seemed to want to expand, not only to discover his secret, possibly placed in the palm of the hand, but to quench their desire for freedom, as if she found a kind of dreamy pleasure. Playful fingers, invaded by the morbid desire to uncover many of deception, invaded by the need to open, like a zipper, the interior landscape of Sandra, always adhered to the narrow framework laid out by Leo violet.

"Lately I do not trust me, do I gave you reasons for it?" He asked. He watched, silent as a voyeur who has been cast in the film set of a classic tragedy. And it was his hand, not hers, which overturned by an awkward movement, small shower, still full of water. "What I make no doubt?". The water came Sandra's feet up, forming a small stream that was confused with the white porcelain floor. The discussion was over. Her hands rested on her thighs now, exhausted, and getting rid of impure remains with those who had been forced to load. Leo leaned over and wiped the floor with some paper. He managed to clean up Sandra's bare feet, which, half pay, half in weariness, had not noticed at the creek that came to her. Running away from the words, or perhaps for fear of not finding them, she retired, humiliated, to his room while he finished arranging the derangement produced by that passion brawl home.