About the author:
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21 Century Literature from the Philippines and the World
Writing a close analysis and critical interpretation of literary texts
Target:
At the end of the lesson, you should be able to: Write a close analysis and critical
interpretation of literary texts, applying a reading approach, and doing an
adaptation of these, require from the learner the ability to identify: representative
texts and authors from European Literature.
Unearthing Europe as the birthplace of the Arts, and the Foundation of
Modernity.Europe is the world’s second-smallest continent. With approximately 50
counties, Russia is the largest and most populous country while Vatican City has
the smallest record on both area and population.
The birthplace of western civilization originated in Europe, from the fall of the
Western Roman Empire, to the Renaissance period, and to the modern
era.European literature of western literature is written in the context of different
historical, political, and cultural influences. It covers themes ranging from the
medieval stories of knights and kings; country affairs of young, and most of the
time forbidden love; the fantastic world of the supernatural; to the different
innovation of the modern period.European literature has produced notable
authors like, Homer (Iliad and Odyssey), Geoffrey Chaucer (The Canterbury Tales),
William Shakespeare (Romeo and Juliet), Rudyard Kipling (The Jungle Book), Neil
Gaiman (The Sandman series) and J.K. Rowling (Harry Potter series).
READER RESPONSE
– Is concerned with the reviewer’s reaction from a literary work.
– Reader-Response theory accepts that a reader’s background knowledge
and experiences impact his/her interpretation of a text.
– Reader Response Theory encourages the reader to explore his/her
emotional response to a literary work.
Carlos Ruiz Zafon
• born in Barcelona in 1964, and now divides his time between Spain and
Los Angeles. His work has been translated into more than 40 languages,
garnering numerous international prizes and reaching millions of readers.
He writes for older children and adults and its best known for the Shadow
of the Wind, a gripping, page-turning exploration of obsession in literature
and love, set in Barcelona.
“KISS”
BY: CARLOS RUIZ ZAFON
I never told anybody, but getting that apartment was nothing short of a miracle.
All I knew about Laura was that she worked part-time at the offices of the landlord
on the first floor, and that she kiss liked a tango. I meet her on a July night when
the skies blanketing Barcelona sizzled with steam and desperation. I had been
sleeping on a bench in a nearby square when I was awakened by the brush of her
lips.
Do you need a place to stay?
She led me to the lobby. The building was one of those vertical mausoleums that
haunt the old town, a labyrinth of gargoyles and patch-ups at the top of which you
could still make out 1886 somewhere beneath the layer of soot.
I followed her upstairs, almost feeling my way in the darkness. The building
creaked under my feet like an old ship. Laura never asked for any references,
personal or financial. The attic was the size of my former cell, a spare room
perched over the endless roof world of the old city.
I’ll take it.
Truth be told, three years in the slammer had obliterated my sense of smell and
the issue of voices leaking through the walls wasn’t exactly a novelty for me. One
man’s hell is another’s paradise lost.
Laura would come to me overnight. Her cold skin and her misty breath were the
only thing that didn’t burn during the scorching summer. At dawn she would
silently vanish downstairs, leaving me doze off during the day.
The neighbours had that meek kindness granted by the years of misery and
oblivion. I counted six families, all with children and old-timers reeking of dead
flowers and damp soil.
My favorite was Don Florian, who lived right downstairs and painted dolls and thin
toys for a living. I spent weeks without venturing out of the building. Spiders were
building arabesques at my threshold. But Doña Luisa, on the third floor, always
brought me something to eat. Don Florian lent me old magazines and challenged
me to endless domino matches. The kids in the building invited me to play hide
and seek.
It was a good life. For the first time ever I felt welcomed. Even appreciated.
By midnight Laura would bring me her nineteen years wrapped in white silk and
give herself to me as if it was the last time. I’d make love to her until the break of
dawn, savouring in her body everything life had denied me. Afterward, I’d dream
in black and white, like dog and cursed people. But even the lowest of the low
sometimes gets a taste of happiness in this world. That summer was mine.
When the demolition people came by in late August, I mistook them for cops. The
chief engineer told me he had nothing personal against squatters, but
unfortunately, they had to dynamite the place and raze it to the ground no matter
what.
There must be a mistake.
Most chapter of my life begin with that line. I ran downstairs to the landlord’s
office on the first floor looking for Laura. All I found was a coat hanger and two
inches of dust. I went to Don Florian’s fifty eyeless dolls rotting in the shadow. I
went through the entire building looking for just one neighbour , one voice. Silent
corridors lay covered in debris.
This property has been closed down since 1938, young man, the chief engineer
informed me. The bomb damaged the structure beyond repair.
I believe we had some words. The wrong kind. My kind. I believe I pushed him.
Down the stairs. Hard. This time the judge had a field day with me. My old
cellmates, it turned out, were still waiting.
After all, you always comeback.
Hernan, the library guy, found a ten-year-old newspaper article about the
bombardment during the civil war. In the photograph the bodies are lined up in
pine boxes, disfigured by the shrapnel, but they were still recognizable to me. A
shroud of blood spreads over the cobblestones. Laura is dressed in white, her
hand crossed over her open chest.
Its been almost two years now, but in prison you live or die by the memories. The
guard think they’re smart, but she knows how to sneak in past any walls.
At midnight I am awakened by the brush of her icy lips. She brings regards from
Don Florian and the others.
You’ll love me always, won’t you? she asks.
And I say yes.
GUIDE QUESTIONS:
1. What can you say about the situation of the speaker in the story?
2. “That summer was mine.”
This line from the blog fiction ‘Kiss’ denotes?
a. The feeling of the speaker being dignified and victorious in finding a
home for himself.
b. A pervasive sense of the childish joy of credulity.
c. Incredible luck.
d. A hard time in dealing with the things happening around him.
 c. a fluid music
d. a body position in dance
4. Do you think speaker of the story and Laura will have a good ending they
deserve?
5. Relate situations from the story that happened or is happening in the
Philippines??

Activity
Create an Analysis
The following are the guidelines in analyzing using Reader Response analysis:

– How much does the text agree or disagree with your view of the world
and what you think is right and wrong? Cite specific lines from the text to
prove your point.
– How well does the text address things that you personally care about and
consider important in the world? Cite specific lines from the text.
– What other text does this text remind you of? Cite lines from the text and
explain the connection.
– What is your overall reaction to the text.