My personal classic
A personal classic may have many definitions, depending on what the person in question looks forward in a book, or even the context in which a certain story was read. It may be different from the canon, or even part of it; it may be recent and contemporary or very old and detached from our present reality. The possibilities are inumerous, in a way that we can always be surprised. My classic is a relatively contemporary book of poems, written in my mother language, "The Complete Poems of Álvaro de Campos, by Fernando Pessoa. I mentioned the language because I believe it has to do with a certain sense of belonging in regard to textual arts. The poems of Pessoa seem ever so true to me due to their being originally conceived in Portuguese. When I read them aloud, it is as if I myself am reading them as my own words. This point is related to another important aspect: my personal identification with the themes and feelings discussed in the book. The most profound of Pessoa's heteronyms, Álvaro de Campos is constantly restless about life, to the point of denying its purpose due to his lack identification with anything close to him. This negativity has much to do with the pessimism and detachment I, as many others, feel in moments of doubt and pressure. Finally, the moment of my life when I entered in contact with this particular book was also essential for my considering it a classic. Having just got out of adolescence, I was confused on what to do with my life, thinking in what objectives to set for the future. Pessoa's poems showed me how complex life can be, helping me see that my uncertainty was shared with others who also feel the same. Therefore, my classic is meaningful to me due to the language it was written in, my personal identification with the content of the text, and the moment of my life I came to read the book. The most interesting point about discussing one's favorite book is this amount of possibilities which can generate in us an immediate interest and identification toward a work of art, in a way that seems to belong to us.