In order to succinctly comment on some of the books that I’ve either read before I started blogging or that I feel that I should talk about more often, I decided to write a three-part series of posts about three books whose covers are predominantly yellow, blue or red. Besides their covers being dominated by a primary colour, these books just have one more thing in common – they still have a place on my shelves.
This third and last instalment is all about the colour red. Or it was supposed to be. Unfortunately, when I came up with the idea for this series of posts, I didn’t realise that I had already written in depth about almost all of the books on my shelves whose covers are predominantly red, since they are mostly recent reads. So, as you can see from the picture above, I’m slightly cheating. Two of the books have white covers. But, in my defence, it’s the elements in red that stand out.
Amor de Perdição (Love of Perdition) by Camilo Castelo Branco
This is one of the most famous books by the Portuguese writer Camilo Castelo Branco. It was written in the 19th century and is an example of the romanticism movement. The forbidden love between Simão Botelho and Teresa Albuquerque is at the core of this novel and is used to condemn the social impositions of the time when it came to relationships.
Memória das Minhas Putas Tristes (Memories of My Melancholy Whores) by Gabriel García Márquez)
More or less ten years ago, I read a couple of books by García Márquez almost in a row. Memories of My Melancholy Whores was the last one of them, if I remember correctly. The main character in this novella is a ninety-year-old man who decides to have a night of love with a virgin adolescent. That leads him to recall all the women he paid to have sex with. Did I enjoy this book when I read it? I can’t tell you for sure. I may one day reread it, so until then it will continue on my shelves.
O Meu Irmão by Afonso Reis Cabral
I have to be honest and confess that I only decided to read the debut novel of the Portuguese writer Afonso Reis Cabral, because he is the great-great-grandson of Eça de Queirós and that kept being mentioned when he won the Leya Award in 2014. It ended up being a good decision, though, as I truly enjoyed the book. It tells the story of two brothers, one of them with Down syndrome, without being overly sentimental. The relationship between them is put to the test when their parents die. The last events are unexpected and made the book far more attention-grabbing than I thought it would be.
Have you read or want to read any of these books? Tell me in the comments!