Platero and I: An Andalusian Elegy

Platero and I by Spanish author and poet Juan Ramon Jimenez is a beautifully written small book about the narrator and his donkey, Platero. Together they wander and comment on the beauty of their surroundings and he events hey encounter.

Platero is considered a beautiful donkey by the narrator and becomes a symbol of tenderness, purity and innocence that the narrator uses to make his observations and confide in. In return Platero gives his master love, joy and companionship.

Instead of a linear story, each chapter describes a different event or thought. From the importance of bread to an illustration of a religious procession to the description of a wild flower beside the road, all of these short chapters paint a vivid picture of life in show more and around a small Spanish town.

Platero and I was originally published in 1914 and I found that the book still delights and amuses today. An Italian composer has written a suite of music based on these stories and in 1968 a Spanish film was made. Platero works as both a children’s book and as a book for adults. While children will delight in the adventures of a boy and his donkey, adults will appreciate the poetic writing and the rich use of symbolism. show less

A magical book that transports the reader, through the eyes of a poet, to a small town in Southern Andalucía (Spain). Jiminez writes about a life shared with his best friend: Platero a young donkey. It is a simple life in tune with nature as the two friends go about their daily business and Jiminez tells his little stories, which are imbued with colour, with the changing seasons and the characters in the town and the surrounding countryside.

The little stories take the form of vignettes rarely more than 300 words each and although in prose form have the feel of a sonnet. Typically they are three or four paragraphs long with the first paragraph setting the scene: introducing the main character, which might be human, or an animal or the show more countryside and usually referring to Platero. The second paragraph enhances the subject and tells the story; there is usually a change of direction in the third paragraph as Jiminez concludes his story with some more thoughts of his own or imagines how Platero might be feeling. Some of the stories are simple, perhaps with some humour, others can delve deeper into the imagination, with a note of sadness that lingers long after the story has finished, while some evoke a feeling of overwhelming well being. The reader travels with Jiminez and Platero feeling the colours, feeling the warmth of their friendship and feeling the world around them.

Most of the stories were published in 1914 and so describe a timeless existence before the inroads of the 20th century. There is a peace and simplicity about their lives that reaches out and makes one yearn to be part of it, least it does for me when I am at my most wistful. I am going to keep this book on my reading desk and dip into these stories when I want to revel in the special atmosphere of Jiminez prose: food for the soul perhaps, food for our lives that miss so much of what the poet tells us. A four star read. show less

This book I took home with me from work, for no other reason than that it had a donkey on its cover. Unaware was I that this book was in fact a giant Spannish classic - only beaten in its number of translations, editions and all that by the great Don Quixote himself - and that in fact its writer Juan Ramon Jimenez is no less than a Nobel Prize winner! Had I known this, I'd have made a mental note of it, and carried on with whatever it was I was doing... But the donkey... Ha!

It's not that I have a particular fondness of donkeys. They're cute, and hardworking, and there's something honorable about 'em, so unlike other creatures - with the possible exception perhaps of whales and magpies... But their face/head does make a book look good. show more (I've one other book with a donkey on the cover in my collection: De vliegende monnik by Peter Holvoet-Hanssen, a remarkable poet but a little less remarkable as a novelist). I haven't had time to think this through thoroughly, but I think this is becuz good literature, the big L-kind, essentially has all the qualities that are generally ascribed to donkeys as well. Deep...

Platero and I then, is indeed a masterpiece. It took me a while to realize it - and so regretfully I've read the first 60 pages way too fast - like gulping down a priceless bottle of wine - but when it eventually hit me, it hit me. I laughed, I cried, I frowned - every page, and thus every poem - for it's really a book of poetry (or poetic prose) - , struck a chord in much the same way Pessoa's Book of restlessness or Proust's Recherche have done in the past. Already, I'm longing for the days when I'll reread this book, preferably somewhere in Italy or Spain or Portugal, or anywhere in South-America, Canada will do too, near a river, near a cemetery, some hills, ...

http://occamsrazorlibrary.blogspot.com/2008/01/platero-and-i.html show less

Another book received through the 1001-Library. This is a Spanish classic, indeed it is still read today by high school students in Spain.

The musings of a man in Andalucia directed towards his donkey, Platero. Platero becomes more than a donkey, he is a companion who recognises that he is different to other donkeys, and shows very human emotions. I loved the chapter when he joins in a race with the children, he so wants to be part of the family, more than just a pet. It is clear that he was, from the author's tone and the final chapters, and chapter XXXV. The Leech, where it is Platero who is afflicted by this pest.

The book follows the seasons, from spring to winter, and also the life of Platero. Jimenez gives us snapshots of show more Andalusian life, from the flora and fauna to the different people, from his own memories to traditions.

The style is very simple, a conversational tone, but blink and you might miss the accuracy of his description of life at the time. There is also social commentary, as in chapter XXIV. Don José, the Curate, a man who is rather ungodly in the field, but assumes his religious role with his "work clothes". Another example is the sad chapter XLVI. The Consumptive Girl.

As I have said, this is a simply written book, but one of many layers. This would appeal to those wanting to know more about Spain, to those who like a poetic narrative style, and anyone who has ever known a donkey. The drawings are also beautiful. show less

Wha' the hell exactly is this?

It wasn't so long ago I was browsing a nearby used book shop, and this title, this tight little 120-page spine, caught my attention, and here I plucked it out and stared at this pretty wicked-looking cover: a simple drawing of a man sitting on a donkey, looking dang depressed, and inside many a drawing, nearly one for every page...of a donkey, a person, a flower, a dead horse among scattered rocks, an advertisement for a bull fight...All these things aroused my interest, and glancing at the 38-cent price, and the poetic language within, I took this mother ****er home with me.

Platero and I: An Andalusian Elegy is a short series of extraordinarily tiny vignettes, most of which are less than a page long, and show more accompanied by a simple drawing, of life in a small village located in southern Spain named Moguer around from 1904-1911 if I'm not mistaken. It held my attention for a whole of 20 minutes where I was thinking "Woah, mannnn, this is some pretty rad stuff...so darned goofy, lookit that donkey go prance about!" before I was bored, and quickly wanted it to end, which it did, quickly. There is no story for the reader to follow, really...just Juan chilling with his Platero, watching kids play in the village, or throw rocks at a dead horse who's just trying to relax, maybe decay a little, watching the excitement spring up when the toreadors come to fight, recalling from memory his friends and neighbors from Moguer, et cetera.

Apparently, this book is filled with sharp social commentary...none of which I got, most likely because I didn't grow up in Spain circa 1910 or ever study its history.

I am being too negative. The writing here is genuinely good, very poetic, sometimes sublime, but I only ever felt "what's the point?" and not at all surprised everything Jiménez has written is now out-of-print.

45%, baby.

[81 copies at time of review...] show less

While not a style of literature I typically read, Platero and I was a charming book. It is essentially a set of short vignettes, each a brief glimpse into the daily life in the Andalusian countryside of a man and his companion Platero, a donkey. Many of the narratives are addressed to Platero himself. Part of my enjoyment was guessing who the narrator is and what his background might be, based on subtle clues in the text.

Platero y yo es la historia de un hombre y su burro.
Los dos iban juntos a todas partes, o a casi todas, y, mientras tanto, charlaban de las cosas sencillas y profundas de la vida, de las cosas del corazón. Era el hombre el que hablaba, claro, pero el burro lo escuchaba con cariño, atentamente.
Los dos vivían en un pueblo de Andalucía, caminito de Huelva, que se llama Moguer. En aquel lugar, la mayor parte de las casas son bajas y blancas y tienen geranios y claveles en todas las ventanas. Es un lugar alegre, y el aire huele
a pinos y a mar, a limoneros y naranjos en flor.
El hombre se llamaba Juan Ramón Jiménez y era poeta.
El burro se llamaba Platero, y, de tanto oír a su dueño, también acabó siéndolo.