post The original date in April 2007, but things have not changed since then.
A claim very difficult to select five books from the hundreds that I read when I was six years now. I've tried anyway and these are the results.
Dalton Trumbo: Johnny Got THE GUN
INCIPIT: If that phone had stopped ringing. He was already bad enough without the need for a phone that's trilled in his ears all night. If God was evil. Nor was the fault of one of those bitter their French wines. No one could fall so much to drink. He had stomach upset. Possible that no one decides to answer the phone? It seemed to ring in a huge room, very large. Even her head was huge. Telephone fucked.
This novel is a denunciation of war and all the baggage of the nonsense that surrounds. Talk of the First World War, but the discussion is valid forever. The finish that is below it seems to me, even today, which could put the willies. This, of five, is the only one that I reread it several times, but now that I've picked up, as almost ...
George Orwell: 1984
INCIPIT: was a cool, clear day in April and the clocks each. Winston Smith, his chin sunk in the collar of his coat to not expose to the rigors of wind, glided slowly between the glass doors of Apartments of the Victory, but not so quick to prevent a flurry of dust and sand came in with him.
Entry postponed smell of boiled cabbage and old carpets frayed. In the background, a color poster, too large to be displayed inside, was nailed to the wall. Represented an enormous face, more than a meter wide: the face of a man of about forty years, blacks with big mustache and features rough but not unpleasant. Winston walked up the stairs. It was useless groped the elevator. Even in the good days worked infrequently during the day and the electricity was interrupted. It was part of the economic project in preparation for Hate Week.
If Orwell had known that his idea would be served to the Dumber of reality ...
This novel was a confirmation rather than a discovery, the value of human beings. A value that no dictatorship, never, can afford to tread.
Frank Herbert: DUNE
INCIPIT: In the week before departure to Arrakis, when he had reached almost intolerable levels the tramenio, una donna vecchia e vizza si presentò alla madre del ragazzo, Paul.
Era una notte calda e soffocante e Castel Caladan, e l’antico mucchio di pietre che era la dimora degli Atreides da ventisei generazioni dava quel senso di frescura umidiccia che preannunciava un cambiamento del tempo.
La vecchia fu fatta entrare da una porta laterale e condotta giù per lo stretto corridoio fino alla camera di Paul, dove poté spiarlo per un attimo mentre giaceva sul letto.
Una lampada schermata era sospesa vicino al pavimento. Alla sua mezza luce il ragazzo, ora sveglio, he saw the silhouette of a portly woman stood in the doorway, next to his mother. The shadow of the old was that of a witch hair like an intricate spider's web, the hooded face, only her eyes gleamed like jewels.
I do not know how many times reread, dunes. If any of you have seen the movie ... the book, as always, is another matter. I've always been fascinated by the ability of writers to create a world with its rules, its laws, its legends, its language. Herbert is a great, one of the best in that "game maker" which is the literature in its best sense.
JR Tolkien's Lord of the Rings
INCIPIT: In a cavern under the ground there lived a hobbit. It was not a cave ugly, dirty, wet, filled with remnants of worms and oozing foul, and even a cave arid, barren, sandy, with nothing inside to sit or to eat: it was a hobbit cave, which is convenient.
had a perfectly round door like a porthole, painted green, with a polished brass knob in the middle. The door opened into an entrance tube shaped like a tunnel: a very comfortable tunnel without smoke, with walls lined with wood and tile floor carpeted, provided with polished chairs, and a large number of hooks for hats and coats: the hobbit loved to receive visitors.
Tolkien is the parent. What did she imagine it before the others. I do not understand why the values \u200b\u200bof which echoes have been usurped by some right-minded. What's less of a fascist hobbits can not wait to go home to eat, drink and sleep. The figure was created with the hero in spite of Frodo Baggins and has not finished yet to bear fruit in literature and cinema. A figure in which we can all recognize.
NB The beginning is actually the one who carried the book "The Hobbit" before the saga of the "Lord of the Rings." But it explains how it happened that Gollum has come into possession of the legendary ring (my tesssoro ...), I think it is an integral part of the novel.
Marion Zimmer Bradley: The Mists of Avalon
INCIPIT: Even in midsummer Tintagel was a gloomy place. Igraine, wife of the Duke Gorlois, watching the sea from the headland. That year the spring storms were more violent than usual, and day and night the roars of the waves had been killed around the castle so that no one could sleep and even the dogs whined plaintively.
Tintagel ... some believed that it was built on the cliffs at the end of the long causeway into the sea, by the magic of the ancient people of Ys.
I read at least ten times. It fascinated me every time. It is not just a fantasy, is the passage from one civilization to another. And 'the melancholy of those who see what they lived off. It 's the return of a substantial power matriarcale all'avanzata maschilista portata in Britannia dal cristianesimo. Morgana è un personaggio che la Bradley ha saputo rendere vivo come mai nessuno prima. Non una fata, non una strega, ma una donna, una sacerdotessa, un'abile stratega che sacrifica i propri sentimenti per il bene comune e che, alla fine, riesce a vedere un lampo di speranza anche nella sconfitta.
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