LETRAS

Somos como el mar.Nos estrellamos con las rocas una y otra vez.Nos rompemos, pero nos volvemos a reconstruir.Somos olas libres». Enmarcada en la inmensidad del océano, la poesía de Lucía Hormigo sube como la marea e inunda el corazón. Sumérgete en su canto sincero a la valentía y a la certeza de que se puede vencer al miedo.

Obra que se halla en los inicios de la novela de ciencia ficción, "La máquina del tiempo" (1895) sigue conservando el mismo poder de fascinación y vigor narrativo que le valieron el éxito inmediato en el momento de su publicación. Afortunada síntesis de los conocimientos científicos del autor, del maquinismo que hacía furor en la época y de la visión escéptica de Herbert George Wells (1866-1946) respecto al rumbo tomado por la sociedad que le tocó vivir, el relato (un clásico) describe un futuro inquietante en el que dos razas semibestiales, los eloi y los morlock, comparten en una peculiar simbiosis un planeta extraño y desolado sobre el que se han cernido catástrofes y transformaciones, pero en el que brilla aún, como tenue esperanza, un hálito de humanidad.

Tilda ama las matemáticas y la natación, pero por encima de todo a su hermana, la pequeña y fantasiosa Ida. Su madre es alcohólica, su padre las abandonó hace tiempo y la vida de Tilda fluctúa entre sus estudios en la universidad, el trabajo de cajera en un supermercado, las labores domésticas y obligaciones familiares y los 22 largos que nada todos los días en la piscina. Cuando un profesor le ofrece la posibilidad de realizar un doctorado en Berlín, empieza a vislumbrar por fin la libertad; pero antes de dar ese paso debe ayudar a Ida a valerse por sí misma. La tarea resulta ardua, porque la situación familiar está a punto de estallar, pero en ese momento aparece Viktor en la vida de Tilda, un chico solitario que, como ella, oculta una herida y nada 22 largos todos los días. Su presencia provocará un vuelco en la historia de los tres.

In the 1950s, Oscar Hammerstein is asked to write the lyrics to a musical based on the life of a woman named Maria von Trapp. He’s intrigued to learn that she was once a novice who hoped to live quietly as an Austrian nun before her abbey sent her away to teach a widowed baron’s sickly child. What should have been a ten-month assignment, however, unexpectedly turned into a marriage proposal. And when the family was forced to flee their home to escape the Nazis, it was Maria who instructed them on how to survive using nothing but the power of their voices. It’s an inspirational story, to be sure, and as half of the famous Rodgers & Hammerstein duo, Hammerstein knows it has big Broadway potential. Yet much of Maria’s life will have to be reinvented for the stage, and with the horrors of war still fresh in people’s minds, Hammerstein can’t let audiences see just how close the von Trapps came to losing their lives. But when Maria sees the script that is supposedly based on her life, she becomes so incensed that she sets off to confront Hammerstein in person. Told that he’s busy, she is asked to express her concerns to his secretary, Fran, instead. The pair strike up an unlikely friendship as Maria tells Fran about her life, contradicting much of what will eventually appear in The Sound of Music. A tale of love, loss, and the difficult choices that we are often forced to make, Maria is a powerful reminder that the truth is usually more complicated—and certainly more compelling—than the stories immortalized by Hollywood.

Venice, 1958. Peggy Guggenheim, heiress and now legendary art collector, sits in the sun at her white marble palazzo on the Grand Canal. She’s in a reflective mood, thinking back on her thrilling, tragic, nearly impossible journey from her sheltered, old-fashioned family in New York to here: iconoclast and independent woman. Rebecca Godfrey’s Peggy is a blazingly fresh interpretation of a woman who defies every expectation to become an original. The daughter of two Jewish dynasties, Peggy finds her cloistered life turned upside down at fourteen, when her beloved father perishes on the Titanic. His death prompts Peggy to seek a life of passion and personal freedom and, above all, to believe in the transformative power of art. We follow Peggy as she makes her way through the glamorous but sexist and anti-Semitic art worlds of New York and Europe and meet the numerous men who love her (and her money) while underestimating her intellect, talent, and vision. Along the way, Peggy must balance her loyalty to her family with her need to break free from their narrow, snobbish ways and the unexpected restrictions that come with vast fortune.

When Morgan and Benji surprise their families with a wedding invitation to Maine, they’re aware the news of their clandestine relationship will come as a shock. Twelve years have passed since the stunning loss of sixteen-year-old Alice, Benji’s sister and Morgan’s best friend, and no one is quite the same. But the young couple decide to plunge headlong into matrimony, marking the first time their fractured families will reunite since Alice’s funeral. As the arriving guests descend upon the tranquil coastal town, they bring with them not only skepticism about the impromptu nuptials but also deep-seated secrets and agendas of their own. Peter, Morgan’s father, may be trying to dissuade his daughter from saying “I do,” while Linnie, Benji’s mother, introduces a boyfriend who bears a tumultuous past of his own. Nick, Benji’s father, is scheming to secure a new job before his wife—formerly his mistress—discovers he’s lost his old one. Morgan, too, carries delicate secrets that threaten to jeopardize the happiness for which she has so longed. And as for Benji—well, he’s just trying to make sure the whole weekend doesn’t implode.