The disappearance of Umberto Eco left me breathless and very sad. He was a great author and a great scholar, but most of all he was one of *my* scholars. One of the main authors I study, one of the founders of my field of study. It’s the first big founder’s death I experience, and the feeling is jarring. Human beings like he was – like he will always be – they are exactly that: always. All his passion and his works are part of a knowledge shared by so many people, that crossed so many generations, there’s no such a thing a death for people like Umberto Eco. Still, he’s gone, the man, the living being, and it’s so strange and so sad, because I’ve never ever crossed roads with him, but he’s been one of my teacher and maestros, and I’ll keep learning from him through his books for a long time still. But I’ll never have the change to meet anywhere but on printed pages, and that’s making me sad.



I don’t know about you, but me? Middle-book syndrome is the bane of my existence. I measure the writing and storytelling abilities of an author on how much they can grip my attention during a middle-book, or the second to last book of a series.

With young adult and fantasy books in particular, I need some impending sense of doom to remind of the stakes, else I’ll either fall asleep or pray for some minor character to die.

Yes, I can get  that bloodthirsty. No, that doesn’t mean GRR MARTIN can kill more characters in his last two ASOIAF books. He needs to stop. No need for more deaths.


Remember my post on Orphan Black and Tatiana Maslany? With tonight Emmys and Tatiana being a much deserved nominee, I found my way back to this awesome New York Times analysis over the show and its stunning, complex portrayal of femininity. It cover pretty much all the reasons Tatiana need to win this Emmy tonight.

Come on, look at this precious gift to humanity! #EmmyForMaslany


(Image Source: @eonline)

How strange it is, to find well-known actorold_moviess and actresses in old movies? It happened to me so many times, but it’s still hilarious and quite emotional. You’re watching a movie, maybe a not well-known one, and suddenly someone pops on the screen and you’re like … wait … wait! Is that *you*?!

I don’t know about you, but I love when it happens, it’s a beautiful feeling, like the unexpected return of a friend.

The Fine Art of Buying a Book You Weren’t Looking For

Please, tell me I’m not alone in this. Please tell me I’m not the only one who enters a bookshop with the right amount of money to buy a specific book, and exits the aforementioned bookshop with a completely different book. Sometimes, even when the book I was going to buy it’s actually there.


It happened again two days ago. I was looking for a couple of anthologies for uni (I’m writing my final paper! … *panics*) and I found only one of them. One of the book was out of print, so I decide I would check it out of the library and copy down the passages I need. This left me with 25 euros and 40 minutes to kill before I headed to the train station to go back home.

A sensible person would have fooled around for a bit, then headed to the train station.

I’m not a clever person, so I methodically explored every corner of the bookshop (something I did not need, cos’ the bloody bookshop is my favorite bookshop!), and ended up buying two books I never planned to buy, and noting down at least six more titles I’ll eventually look for.

I say eventually because there’s no way I’ll think about them in the near future. The last time this happened, I ended up buying Love in the Time of Global Worming by Francesca Lia Block, a book I first heard about months before I bought it. I found it while I was looking for a textbook for A2 Level Spanish. Really, I’m that bad. (It was nice, by the way. Not the Spanish, the novel. Not the best by Block, but nice).

How does this happen to me? Is it a curse? A talent? Can I put this in my resume? “Unconscious Books Finder”. Doesn’t sound so bad, I guess.

Those days you realize you’ve spent way too much money on books and ycart-of-booksou find yourself googling “curse words in German” so that Guttemberg’s soul may understand exactly how you feel about him.

I’m reading Textual Poachers by Henry Jenkins and I … can’t honestly believe my eyes? This book was written in 1992 and it’s incredible how good it is at analyzing fandom practices. One can agree or not with Jenkins’s thesis and opinions, but nobody can deny the overall respect to popular culture and its audience. It’s moving, and refreshing – and depressing once you think how much audience is still mistreated by the majority of show-runners, authors, producers and Powers That Be.


How comes Henry Jenkins manage to do so good when Web 2.0 wasn’t a thing, when TPTB could rarely have a correct understanding of fans and their practices? Can we make this book mandatory reading, please? I’m not asking for it to be a Bible, but to at least let it teach some respect to media’s producers? Yes?