Pre-publication of “The Belly of the Donkey”. Forbidden Passions in the Mid-Atlantic – Life

In the month dedicated to women, This is how I read it celebrates writing in the feminine by reading it “A Simple Passion” in Annie Ernaux. The session guest—scheduled for March 23 at 21:00 – Is Katia Vieirawriter, literary influence and openly a lover of the French Nobel’s writing.

Debut novelist Cátia Vieira published Lola in 2021 and is working on her second. Her passion for literature and the pace at which she racks up readings is well documented on her Instagram account, where she has over 50,000 followers and is openly a fan of Annie Ernaux.

In addition to an academic career linked to literature—with a BA and MA in Portuguese Studies and a PhD in Comparative Modernities at the University of Minho—Cátia Vieira founded Alma Interior Design Studio, an interior design brand, and freelances in communication and marketing fields.

As for “A Simple Passion”, it is one of the novels with which Annie Ernaux built her literary reputation, the Frenchwoman is the winner of the 2022 Nobel Prize in Literature.

To register for the meeting, simply fill out the form found at this link. On the day of the meeting you will receive an email with all the instructions to join the conversation.

In addition to monthly meetings to discuss literary works, the club has a Facebook group, with more than 2500 members, which aims to encourage the exchange of ideas around books, their authors and the writing and stories with which love me.

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The party ended and we got to the canteen and there was even more food. The cooks prepared potatoes with cutlets, corn on the cob and mojo (2), Isora’s favorite food. And when we came through with our little metal tray, our napkin, our glass of well water (which we suspected was from the tap, although you can’t drink it on the island) and our Celgán cutlery and yogurts, the teachers who were in the canteen asked us if it was mojo red or mojo green and Isora replied that it was mojo red, and I thought how bold it is, mojo red, and she’s not afraid to be spicy, she’s not afraid to eat grown-up things, I want to be like her, so bold, so fearless.

We sat down at the table and began to eat with a speed similar to that with which the boys jumped over the boards on the hillside during the San Andrés celebrations (3). There were no tires at the end of the descent. his outbursts mojo sliding under our chins, braids greasy from putting our hair on the plate, our teeth full of bits of corn and oregano, white pigeons, as Isora called the food between her teeth. And as we swallowed I already felt a humming sadness, an anguish in the pit of my stomach, my mouth dry as if I had eaten powdered milk mixed with stupid (4) and sugar. In the summer we couldn’t leave the neighborhood, the beach was far away. We were not like the other girls who lived in the center of the village, we lived in the middle of the hill.

Isora got up from her chair and said shit, let’s go to the bathroom.

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