Index Livraria

“I believe that a good children's book should appeal to all people who have not completely lost their original joy and wonder in life. The fact is that I don't make books for children at all. I make them for that part of us, of myself and of my friends, which has never changed, which is still a child.”
*Leo Lionni

Nova loja!

Dentro de um saco de algodão, quatro quilos de peças de madeira aguardam por mentes criativas! Estas peças são sobras de produção dos outros jogos e nunca sabemos exactamente o que contém cada saco, mas a imaginação é o único limite para o que se pode criar!

Um dominó de madeira, que brilha no escuro. Durante o dia as tulipas devem ser colocadas à janela, para receberem luz, quando escurece, toca a jogar! :)

Podem chover cães e gatos, mas os nossos livros continuam lindos!

Brinquedos para construir, concebidos e produzidos em França, a partir de cartão e papel reciclado.

"Branca de Neve" (faixa 1 do audiolivro "35 contos dos irmãos Grimm"), por Maria Morais.

ADAPTAÇÃO E NARRAÇÃO: António Fontinha, Cristina Taquelim, Maria Morais, Rodolfo Castro e Thomas Bakk
ILUSTRAÇÃO E ARRANJO GRÁFICO: José Feitor
SEPARADOR MUSICAL: Paul Mottram (“Magical Moments 8”)

DURAÇÃO: 120 minutos (35 faixas)
GRAVAÇÃO, EDIÇÃO, MISTURA E MASTERIZAÇÃO: Nuno Morão e Oriana Alves

O audiolivro “35 contos dos irmãos Grimm” reúne contos da tradição oral recolhidos há mais de 200 anos pelos irmãos Jacob e Wilhelm Grimm. As versões e narrações são dos contadores António Fontinha, Cristina Taquelim, Maria Morais, Rodolfo Castro e Thomas Bakk e foram feitas a pensar no tempo rápido da rádio, onde se estrearam em Maio e Junho de 2012, na antena da TSF.

É o 5.º título da colecção “HOT– Histórias Oralmente Transmissíveis”, parceria da Boca com o Instituto de Estudos de Literatura Tradicional, e o 3.º da secção Boca Júnior – para crianças de todas as idades.

A adaptação foi feita a partir da primeira edição portuguesa completa de “Contos da Infância e do Lar” (Círculo de Leitores/Temas e Debates, 2012). A antologia publicada em 1812, primeira edição dos contos recolhidos pelos irmãos Grimm, é a obra de língua alemã mais traduzida em todo o mundo.

If you’re a boy writer, it’s a simple rule: you’ve gotta get used to the fact that you suck at writing women and that the worst women writer can write a better man than the best male writer can write a good woman. And it’s just the minimum. Because the thing about the sort of heteronormative masculine privilege, whether it’s in Santo Domingo, or the United States, is you grow up your entire life being told that women aren’t human beings, and that women have no independent subjectivity. And because you grow up with this, it’s this huge surprise when you go to college and realize that, “Oh, women aren’t people who does my shit and fucks me.”

And I think that this a huge challenge for boys, because they want to pretend they can write girls. Every time I’m teaching boys to write, I read their women to them, and I’m like, “Yo, you think this is good writing?” These motherfuckers attack each other over cliche lines but they won’t attack each other over these toxic representations of women that they have inherited… their sexist shorthand, they think that is observation. They think that their sexist distortions are insight. And if you’re in a writing program and you say to a guy that their characters are sexist, this guy, it’s like you said they fucking love Hitler. They will fight tooth and nail because they want to preserve this really vicious sexism in the art because that is what they have been taught.

And I think the first step is to admit that you, because of your privilege, have a very distorted sense of women’s subjectivity. And without an enormous amount of assistance, you’re not even going to get a D. I think with male writers the most that you can hope for is a D with an occasional C thrown in. Where the average women writer, when she writes men, she gets a B right off the bat, because they spent their whole life being taught that men have a subjectivity. In fact, part of the whole feminism revolution was saying, “Me too, motherfuckers.” So women come with it built in because of the society.

It’s the same way when people write about race. If you didn’t grow up being a subaltern person in the United States, you might need help writing about race. Motherfuckers are like ‘I got a black boy friend,’ and their shit sounds like Klan Fiction 101.

The most toxic formulas in our cultures are not pass down in political practice, they’re pass down in mundane narratives. It’s our fiction where the toxic virus of sexism, racism, homophobia, where it passes from one generation to the next, and the average artist will kill you before they remove those poisons. And if you want to be a good artist, it means writing, really, about the world. And when you write cliches, whether they are sexist, racist, homophobic, classist, that is a fucking cliche. And motherfuckers will kill you for their cliches about x, but they want their cliches about their race, class, queerness. They want it in there because they feel lost without it. So for me, this has always been the great challenge.

As a writer, if you’re really trying to write something new, you must figure out, with the help of a community, how can you shed these fucking received formulas. They are received. You didn’t come up with them. And why we need fellow artists is because they help us stay on track. They tell you, “You know what? You’re a bit of a fucking homophobe.” You can’t write about the world with these simplistic distortions. They are cliches. People know art, always, because they are uncomfortable. Art discomforts. The trangressiveness of art has to deal with confronting people with the real. And sexism is a way to avoid the real, avoiding the reality of women. Homophobia is to avoid the real, the reality of queerness. All these things are the way we hide from encountering the real. But art, art is just about that.

Junot Diaz speaking at Word Up Bookshop, 2012 (via clambistro)

(Fonte: ofgrammatology, via neil-gaiman)