Jerome David Salinger, the writer for the New Yorker became famous novel The Catcher in the Rye, died Wednesday, January 27, 2010, at his home in Cornish, in the U.S. state of New Hampshire.
The novel 'The Catcher in the Rye' was first published in 1951 with the original title "The Catcher in the Rye (The hunter of the field of rye), which received an instant success.
Alle prime luci del mattino, io e mio suocero risalimmo faticosamente da quel gelido ed oscuro vallone degli Alburni, dove - contrariamente a quanto assicuratoci dai locali - non avevamo incontrato nemmeno l'ombra di un cinghiale.
Giungemmo alla fine ad uno spiazzo aperto, riparato a nord dai venti da un costone roccioso, e ricoperto da uno spesso manto d'erba, su cui facevano ombra alcuni alberelli, sparsi qua e là: ci sembrò di essere arrivati al centro dell' Eden.
As it is in the best tradition of publications on websites, when you start a set of articles related to a certain topic, you must give them a name and a brief description.
And so, wishing to talk about grandparents and grandchildren, and precisely the habits and behaviors and topics of conversation in common between grandparents and grandchildren, and having to choose a short title, I decided to give the section of this site a short name, for the note "Nonno Zef".
Fixed the fact of the name of the section, I had to decide on the names of the categories of the section. And then, immediately, I thought of a category called "Tales and Fables", since it is well known that when the grandchildren are young, the grandparents usually tell them stories.
Then, in the life of an elderly person, an important space is represented by memories. And so I gave this name to a second category: "Ricordi".
In particular, for Ricordi, it is also possible to generalize, in the sense that after all the fables and the stories before, and then the memories, are part of a very vast and very thick substratum, which we simply call dreams.
Dreams are an important part of our life. They always accompany us, in a simple and imaginative way just like in the grandparents' fairy tales to their grandchildren, but also during, and after, and until the end: there are the Dreams of young people who try to build a future; there are also the dreams of young people who discover love, and who dream and are engaged in how to be united forever with their loved one. At the same time, it is therefore possible to distribute the fables and stories, generated by these dreams, in sub categories subdivided by age group, not excluding adults. Literature is rich in examples of works of a fairy-tale nature suitable for all ages; we cite "Il Piccolo Principe", by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, and works of greater depth, such as the trilogy by Italo Calvino, "Our Ancestors" (Il Visconte Dimezzato, Il Baron Rampante, Il Cavaliere Inesistente); and yet, the superb work "A Midsummer Night's Dream", by W. Shakespeare. The same Shakespeare in his work "The Tempest" makes Prospero say: "... We are of the same substance of which dreams are made, and our little life is surrounded by a sleep". Ultimately, dreams are necessary for all ages: the theme changes, but ultimately each of us - and each in its own way - tries to make sense of the mystery of our complex, mysterious, human fragility.
Then follows a summary of the story "Rikki Tikki Tavi", taken from the collection "The Book of the Jungle" by Rudyard Kipling.
Finally, I would like to carry out some simple chemistry notes, following over the years - as far as Heaven allows me - the schooling of my granddaughters, if they need - but I really hope not! - of a little help.
Thus, the categories in this section are as follows:
But it would also be interesting to examine how the rapid evolution of human society - of its ways of being, of thinking, of its lifestyles - should also change the relationships between grandparents and grandchildren. And therefore it would be interesting to also have articles relating to experiences and chronicles of real facts concerning grandparents and grandchildren. And that's part of the future developments of this section of the site, which I hope - Heaven wanting! - to be able to achieve.
To make general then the participation - both of all the grandparents, and of all the grandchildren, according to the meaning attributed above - as administrator I thought of updating the site to the latest version of Joomla! (vers. 3x), which is responsive, that is easily viewable even on smartphones and tablets, in order to increase the dissemination of content especially among young people, also due to the multi-lingual feature of this site.
author: Zeferino Siani
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In this site, the approach to the meaning of the term 'Culture' is quite different from that of social-network cultural addresses, normally managed by a team of professionals and / or prominent people in the world of culture.
"The Observatory" is a vast repertoire of interesting categories of information whose links are shown in the following list.
I wish readers a good research and an interesting reading.
After clicking on the link that you think interesting, for example ANSA, it may happen to enter a lot in this site, and then, to go back, use the arrow in the upper left, pointing on which read: "Click to go back , press and hold to see the chronology. "Once this is done, go back to the article" The Observatory ", from which you can resume browsing by selecting another link of our interest.
For a fast and uninterrupted browsing, it is advisable to initially open a few more copies of the ZEFERINO site. In fact, it is boring to go back many pages when research on a certain topic is long and thorough. In this case, it is better to close the current page and resume navigation starting from another copy of the site, already present on our desktop.
Margareth
Margareth was proud of her work and of her position. And the people who knew her were in favor of seeing her as a good financial consultant, with a quality that could hardly be precisely defined, and that her most discerning clients identified in a kind of wonderful certainty that what was being decided about or diversification of the securities of a portfolio or a brilliant pick-up would have been a sure success.
With slow steps, she approached the large window of his office, at the 30th - and even last - floor of HSBC Tower, 452 Fifth Avenue, New York: during the night the wind had swept the sky from all the clouds, and the view was magnificent.
Then, as he had done before, she took a key from the desk, closed the office door behind him, ran up the two flights of stairs and then - two turns in the lock and a push - went out onto the terrace!
Now nothing stood in front of her eyes and, satisfied, she could look up to the Hudson to the left, to the East River to the right and, behind him, to all the Central Park to the north, ... and beyond, and beyond! Then, as always, her gaze slowly receded, retracing the previous vision backwards, until she pinned herself on Bryant Park just below her: New Yorker for generations, she loved her city, and in particular she loved that meadow which today shone like a face well polished of an enormous emerald.
The Bryant Park! ... Always well cared for and clean, with all those chairs and tables under the plants arranged around the rectangle of green lawn, where she went to read, or consume fast food, or at other times simply to lie down and sunbathe with her feet barefoot on the grass.
And then, in winter, all November and December, that ice rink, the Winter Village, and those shops with yellow, green, multicolored glass windows, where you can buy everything, useful and useless, a drink, a coffee, a snack, or a nice souvenir. Or even go and get your favorite book from the adjacent New York Public Library, then read it sitting on one of the many chairs available, for example, next to the statue of William C. Bryant !, poet and journalist, or next to the circular fountain , or in one of the shady alleys around the park, or in full light in the park.
That morning, a happy cloud wandered lonely in a blue sky, punctuated here and there by other white clouds, some in groups, others lonely as she.
A light wind pushed the cloud, and it stroked and gently molded the her floating body, white and soft as freshly fallen snow.
The woman closed behind her the chalet door so it could not be beaten by the wind.
Slender, high, she slowly moved toward the sea, with her face raised to the sky, her arms slightly stretched along and her body and her palms open upwards, graciously accepting the raindrops of that suddenly summer-storm at the beginning of the evening. When a lightning crossed the dark sky, obscured by clouds, illuminating for a moment her face, you could have seen in her green eyes a shiver of pleasure: that day was quite hot.