Desayuno en Tiffany's

Por Truman Capote

Holly Golightly, la protagonista de Desayuno en Tiffany's, es quizá el más seductor personaje creado por este maestro de seducción que fue Truman Capote. Atractiva sin ser guapa, tras rechazar una carrera de actriz en Hollywood, Holly se convierte en una estrella del Nueva York más sofisticado; bebiendo cócteles y rompiendo corazones, parece ganarse la vida pidiendo suelto para sus expediciones al tocador en los restaurantes y clubs de moda, y vive rodeada de tipos disparatados, desde un mafioso que cumple condena en Sing Sing y al que visita semanalmente, hasta un millonario caprichoso de afinidades nazis, pasando por un viejo barman secretamente enamorado de ella. Mezcla de picardía e inocencia, de astucia y autenticidad, Holly vive en la provisionalidad permanente, sin pasado, no queriendo pertenecera nada ni a nadie, sintiéndose desterrada en todas partes pese al glamour que la rodea, y soñando siempre en ese paraíso que para ella es Tiffany's, la famosa joyería neoyorquina. Desayuno en Tiffany's es una extraordinaria novela corta que, por sí sola, bastaría para consagrar a un autor.

• Idioma: Español
• Editorial: Editorial Anagrama
• Fecha de lanzamiento: 1 jun 1990
• ISBN: 9788433937421

Truman Capote

Truman Capote (1924-1984) es uno de los mejores escritores norteamericanos del siglo XX. Anagrama le ha dedicado una Biblioteca Truman Capote: Otras voces, otros ámbitos, Un árbol de noche, Desayuno en Tiffany’s, A sangre fría, Música para camaleones, Plegarias atendidas, El arpa de hierba, Retratos, Tres cuentos, Los perros ladran, Cuentos completos y Crucero de verano.

Vista previa del libro

Índice

Portada

Desayuno en Tiffany’s

Una casa de flores

Una guitarra de diamantes

Un recuerdo navideño

Créditos

Notas

Desayuno en Tiffany’s

Siempre me siento atraído por los lugares en donde he vivido, por las casas y los barrios. Por ejemplo, hay un edificio de roja piedra arenisca en la zona de las Setenta Este donde, durante los primeros años de la guerra, tuve mi primer apartamento neoyorquino. Era una sola habitación atestada de muebles de trastero, un sofá y unas obesas butacas tapizadas de ese especial y rasposo terciopelo rojo que solemos asociar a los trenes en día caluroso. Tenía las paredes estucadas, de un color tirando a esputo de tabaco mascado. Por todas partes, incluso en el baño, había grabados de ruinas romanas que el tiempo había salpicado de pardas manchas. La única ventana daba a la escalera de incendios. A pesar de estos inconvenientes, me embargaba una tremenda alegría cada vez que notaba en el bolsillo la llave de este apartamento; por muy sombrío que fuese, era, de todos modos, mi casa, mía y de nadie más, y la primera, y tenía allí mis libros, y botes llenos de lápices por afilar, todo cuanto necesitaba, o eso me parecía, para convertirme en el escritor que quería ser.

Jamás se me ocurrió, en aquellos tiempos, escribir sobre Holly Golightly, y probablemente tampoco se me hubiese ocurrido ahora de no haber sido por la conversación que tuve con Joe Bell, que reavivó de nuevo todos los recuerdos que guardaba de ella.

Holly Golightly era una de las inquilinas del viejo edificio de piedra arenisca; ocupaba el apartamento que estaba debajo del mío. Por lo que se refiere a Joe Bell, tenía un bar en la esquina de Lexington Avenue; todavía lo tiene. Holly y yo bajábamos allí seis o siete veces al día, aunque no para tomar una copa, o no siempre, sino para llamar por teléfono: durante la guerra era muy difícil conseguir que te lo instalaran. Además, Joe Bell tomaba los recados mejor que nadie, cosa que en el caso de Holly Golightly era un favor importante, porque recibía muchísimos.

Todo esto pasó, naturalmente, hace un montón de tiempo, y, hasta la semana pasada, hacía años que no veía a Joe Bell. Alguna que otra vez nos habíamos puesto en contacto, y en ocasiones me había dejado caer por su bar cuando pasaba por el barrio; pero nunca habíamos sido en realidad grandes amigos, excepto en el sentido de que ambos éramos amigos de Holly Golightly. Joe Bell no tiene un carácter precisamente afable, tal como él mismo reconoce, aunque dice que es por culpa de su soltería y de las malas pasadas que le gasta su estómago. Todos los que le conocen bien saben que no es fácil conversar con él. Y que resulta hasta imposible si no tienes sus mismas obsesiones, entre las cuales se cuenta Holly. De las otras mencionaré el hockey sobre hielo, los perros de raza Weimaraner, Our Gal Sunday (un serial radiofónico de baja estofa que lleva oyendo desde hace quince años), y Gilbert y Sullivan: afirma estar emparentado con uno de los dos, no recuerdo cuál.

De modo que cuando, el pasado martes por la tarde, sonó el teléfono y oí «Soy Joe Bell», supe que tenía que ser por algo referente a Holly. No lo dijo, sólo:

–¿Puedes venir a toda mecha? Es importante.

Y su voz afónica temblaba de excitación.

Tomé un taxi bajo un chaparrón otoñal, y por el camino llegué incluso a pensar que quizá Holly hubiera regresado, que quizá volvería a verla.

Pero en el local no había nadie más que el dueño. El bar de Joe Bell es un sitio tranquilo en comparación con la mayor parte de los que hay en Lexington Avenue. No ostenta neones ni televisor. Dos viejos espejos reflejan el tiempo que hace en la calle; y detrás de la barra, en un nicho rodeado de fotos de estrellas del hockey sobre hielo, siempre hay un gran jarrón de flores frescas que el propio Joe Bell arregla con maternal cuidado. Eso es lo que estaba haciendo cuando entré.

–Desde luego –dijo, hundiendo un gladiolo en el jarrón–, desde luego que no te hubiese hecho venir si no fuera porque quería oír tu opinión. Es muy raro. Ha pasado una cosa rarísima.

–¿Has tenido noticias de Holly?

Palpó una hoja, como si no estuviera seguro de cómo contestarme. Es un hombre bajito con una magnífica melena de áspero pelo blanco, y una cara huesuda y en declive que le sentaría mejor a una persona más alta; su tez suele estar siempre bronceada: en aquel momento se le enrojeció.

–No puedo decir exactamente que haya tenido noticias de ella. En fin, no estoy seguro. Por eso quiero tu opinión. Espera, te prepararé un cóctel. Es nuevo. Lo llaman White Angel –dijo, mezclando la mitad de vodka con la mitad de ginebra, sin vermut.

Mientras yo me bebía el resultado, Joe Bell estuvo chupando una pastilla para el estómago y dándole vueltas a lo que tenía que decirme.

–¿Te acuerdas –dijo por fin– de un tal Mr. I. Y. Yunioshi, aquel señor del Japón?

–De California –dije, recordando perfectamente a Mr. Yunioshi. Es fotógrafo de una revista ilustrada, y cuando le conocí vivía en el estudio del último piso de la casa de piedra arenisca.

–No trates de liarme. Sólo te pregunto si sabes a quién me refiero. Bien. Pues ayer noche se presenta aquí ni más ni menos que el mismísimo Mr. I. Y. Yunioshi. No le había visto, bueno, desde hace más de dos años. ¿Y dónde dirías que ha estado durante estos dos años?

–En África.

Joe Bell dejó de machacar su pastilla, entrecerró los ojos:

–¿Y cómo lo sabes?

–Lo ha contado Winchell.¹

Y así era, de hecho.

Abrió, con acompañamiento de un tintineo, la registradora, y sacó un sobre de papel manila.

–Muy bien, pues a ver si Winchell también ha contado esto.

En el sobre había tres fotos más o menos iguales, pero tomadas desde distintos ángulos: un negro alto y delicado, con falda de calicó y una sonrisa tímida pero vanidosa, mostraba en sus manos una extraña escultura de madera, una talla alargada que representaba una cabeza, la de una chica de pelo liso y tan corto como el de un hombre, con sus lustrosos ojos de madera desproporcionadamente grandes y sesgados en el ahusado rostro, y los labios gruesos, excesivamente marcados, casi como los de un payaso. A primera vista parecía una talla muy primitiva; pero luego no, porque aquello era la viva imagen de Holly Golightly, todo lo parecido a ella que podía esperarse de aquel objeto negro y quieto.

–¿Qué me dices de esto? –dijo Joe Bell, satisfecho de mi sorpresa.

–Se le parece.

–Mira, chico –y descargó una palmada sobre la barra–, es ella. Como que me llamo Joe. Ese enano japonés supo que lo era en cuanto la vio.

–¿La vio? ¿En África?

–Bueno. Sólo esta estatua. Pero es lo mismo. Lee tú mismo lo que dice aquí –dijo, dándole la vuelta a una de las fotografías. En el reverso decía: Talla de Madera. Tribu S, Tococul, East Anglia, Navidad, 1956.

–Esto es lo que dice el nipón –dijo Joe, y la historia era la siguiente: el día de Navidad, Mr. Yunioshi pasó con su cámara por Tococul, una aldea perdida en el laberinto del quinto infierno, y que aquí no nos interesa, un simple montón de chozas de barro con monos en la puerta y buitres en el techo. Cuando ya había decidido seguir su camino, Mr. Yunioshi se fijó de repente en un negro sentado en cuclillas junto a su choza. Estaba tallando monos en un bastón. A Mr. Yunioshi le llamó la atención su trabajo, y le rogó que le permitiera ver otras muestras. Tras lo cual le enseñaron la talla de la cabeza de una joven: y tuvo la sensación, o así al menos me lo contó Joe Bell, de estar sumergiéndose en un sueño. Pero cuando dijo que quería comprarla, el negro se cogió las partes con la mano (un ademán al parecer amable, algo así como llevarse la palma al corazón) y se negó a vender. Ni un medio kilo de sal más diez dólares, ni tampoco un reloj de pulsera más un kilo de sal más veinte dólares, bastaron para convencerle. Mr. Yunioshi estaba decidido a averiguar de la forma que fuese cómo había llegado a realizar aquella talla. Y le costó su sal y su reloj, pero al final le contaron la anécdota en una mezcla de africano, afroinglés y señas. Le pareció entender que la anterior primavera había aparecido de entre la maleza un grupo de tres blancos montados a caballo. Una joven y dos hombres. Los hombres, con los ojos enrojecidos por la fiebre, se vieron obligados a permanecer varios días temblando en una choza aislada, mientras que la joven, que se encaprichó del escultor, compartió su jergón con él.

–Esta parte de la historia no me la creo –dijo el mojigato Joe Bell–. Sé que Holly era como era, pero no creo que pudiese llegar ni de lejos a una cosa así.

–¿Y luego?

–Luego, nada –se encogió de hombros–. Al cabo de un tiempo se fue tal como había llegado, montada a lomos de un caballo.

–¿Sola, o con los dos hombres?

–Supongo que con los dos hombres –parpadeó Joe Bell–. Pues bien, el nipón estuvo preguntando por ella a lo largo y ancho de todo el país. Pero nadie más la había visto. –Luego ocurrió como si Joe notara que se le filtraba mi propia decepción, y no quisiera contagiarse–. Tendrás que admitir al menos una cosa: es la primera noticia concreta que nos llega desde hace no sé cuántos –contó con los dedos, pero no le bastaron– años. Espero al menos que se haya hecho rica. Tiene que serlo. Hay que ser rico para andar perdiendo el tiempo por África.

–Probablemente jamás haya pisado África –dije, muy convencido; y, sin embargo, podía imaginármela allí, era un sitio al que podía haber ido. Y la cabeza tallada: volví a mirar las fotos.

–Ya que tanto sabes, ¿dónde está?

–Habrá muerto. O estará en un manicomio. O se habrá casado.

Joe reflexionó un momento.

–No –dijo, sacudiendo negativamente la cabeza–. Y te diré por qué. Si estuviera aquí, yo la habría visto. Si una persona a la que le gusta caminar, una persona como yo, alguien que lleva diez o doce años caminando por estas calles, y que durante todos estos años ha estado buscándola, no la ha visto ni una sola vez, ¿no es para pensar que no está aquí? Veo partes de ella constantemente, un culito plano, una chica flaca que anda tiesa y a buen paso... –Hizo una pausa, como si le azorase la fijeza con que le estaba mirando–. ¿Crees que estoy majara?

–Sólo que no me había enterado de que estuvieses enamorado de ella. Hasta ese punto.

Lamenté haberlo dicho; le desconcertó. Recogió las fotos y volvió a meterlas en el sobre. Miré la hora en mi reloj. No tenía que ir a ningún lado, pero me pareció que lo mejor sería largarme.

–Espera –dijo, agarrándome de la muñeca–. La quería, claro. Pero nunca se me ocurrió tocarla. –Y, sin sonreír, añadió–: Tampoco creas que no pienso en esas cosas. Incluso a mi edad, y el diez de enero cumpliré los sesenta y siete. Es curioso, pero, cuanto más viejo me hago, más pienso en esas cosas. No recuerdo haber pensado tanto en ellas cuando era joven, y ahora en cambio me ocurre a cada momento. Quizá sea porque cuanto más viejo te haces, menos fácil es llevar esos pensamientos a la práctica, quizá por que se te queda todo encerrado en la cabeza y se te convierte en una carga. Pero –se sirvió una medida de whisky y se la bebió de un trago– jamás haré nada deshonroso. Y te juro que jamás me cruzó siquiera la imaginación la idea de hacerle algo a Holly. Se puede querer a una persona sin que pasen esas cosas. Se puede tratar a esa persona como a una desconocida, una desconocida que es tu amiga.

Entraron dos hombres en el bar, y pareció el momento oportuno para irse. Joe Bell me siguió hasta la puerta. Volvió a atraparme por la muñeca.

–¿Lo crees?

–¿Que jamás quisiste ni tocarla?

–No, me refiero a lo de África.

En aquel momento era como si no pudiese recordar la anécdota, sólo la imagen de Holly alejándose, a caballo.

–De todos modos, ha desaparecido.

–Sí –dijo él, abriendo la puerta–. Ha desaparecido.

Afuera había dejado de llover, no quedaba más que un resto de niebla en el aire, de modo que volví la esquina y anduve por la calle en donde se encuentra el edificio de piedra arenisca. Es una calle con árboles que durante el verano forman frescos dibujos en la acera; pero las hojas estaban ahora amarilleadas, habían caído en su mayor parte, y la lluvia las había dejado resbaladizas, patinaban bajo mis suelas. La casa está a mitad de la manzana, junto a una iglesia en cuya torre azulada da las horas el reloj. La casa ha sido remozada después de que yo me fuera; una elegante puerta negra reemplaza el viejo cristal deslustrado, y unas bonitas contraventanas grises enmarcan las ventanas. Ahora no vive allí ningún vecino del que yo guarde algún recuerdo, con la sola excepción de Madame Sapphia Spanelia, una ronca soprano que cada tarde se iba a patinar a Central Park. Sé que sigue viviendo allí porque subí los peldaños y miré los buzones. Fue uno de estos buzones lo primero que me condujo a enterarme de la existencia de Holly Golightly.

Llevaba más o menos una semana viviendo en esa casa cuando me fijé en la curiosa tarjeta colocada en el buzón del apartamento 2.

Comentarios para Desayuno en Tiffany's

[yogiabb_1 · Calificación: 3 de 5 estrellas]

I'm a big Audrey Hepburn fan but I was never much of fan of the movie "Breakfast at Tiffany's." There didn't seem to be anything to it, just a lightweight romantic comedy. I read an essay about the book though and how it wasn't really anything like the movie. It was darker, with an edge. So this book has been on my TBR list for some time.The book is really a novella. And indeed it is darker. Holly Golightly is basically a prostitute. I mean she accepts money from men as a price for her companionship, lots of men (about $35 to $50, to "tip the lady's room attendant.") She also gets paid about $100 a week for about an hour of work visiting a crime boss in Sing Sing and giving and receiving coded messages. The book is about the friendship between her and an unnamed narrator over the course of a year or so. They are both tenants in a brownstone. They guys like Holly and they spend some time together and she is a fun girl to be with.Anyway, she gets in trouble because of the business with the crime boss, and the book ends pretty suddenly and no loose ends are tied up. I loved the book. It has an edge to it. I just can't see Audrey Hepburn playing a prostitute though.I give the book at 3.5 stars out of five. Give it a shot. Your library has it. Won't cost you a thing.

[dbsovereign · Calificación: 3 de 5 estrellas]

Capote's answer to Isherwood's Sally Bowles, this jewel of a novella is nevertheless unique. It takes place in New York City and shows Capote's fascination for interesting characters. Better than the movie (though I love Audrey!) because it has a harder edge.

[soylentgreen23 · Calificación: 3 de 5 estrellas]

My library seems filled with little works of fiction (little, not minor, although there are a number of those too). I like to say I've read so-and-so an author, even though most of his work is too big or I haven't come across any of it. I've done that with Nabokov, having read "The Enchanter" and not "Lolita." All in good time, I keep saying to myself, and then I pull down another little tome from the shelf and read that instead of something meatier. No wonder it took me ten weeks to digest Don Quixote."Breakfast" is pretty cool. There's little, if any, plot, but Capote does a marvellous job of bringing life into the proceedings, and it's just short enough so that it all feels profound without the usually necessary addition of profundity.

[ctpress_1 · Calificación: 4 de 5 estrellas]

"I never get used to anything - anybody that does, they might as well be dead"A quote from Holly Golightly - this short novel tells her story - or the narrators brief "friendship" with her during the war in the 1940's Manhattan. He lives in the same apartment building as Holly - he's deeply fascinated with her - maybe in love with her - or maybe just infatuated with her. Holly Golightly is a woman hard to describe. One of those you just never really get to to know really well. With a mysterious past - she's always in search of something more, a new place, new people, new experiences - not particular interested in thinking of the past or the future - just living in the moment.A free spirit, she likes to break the rules (like shoplifting as a sport), with thousand whims and ideas that are exchanged for new ones the next day. There are some funny and weird incidents in this novel but it's Holly as a person that is the story - how she reacts and talks funny with her crazy ideas and living. Not really sure if she's clever or naive.She leave a definite mark on the narrator - being around her life is just more interesting - she's an interesting but brief breeze in his life and he will never forget her. I enjoyed it's sweet sense of nostalgia but was also happy it was a quick read.

[bagpuss-3 · Calificación: 3 de 5 estrellas]

Breakfast at Tiffany’s is only 100 pages long and is an easy read, but it didn’t really do it for me and less than a week after finishing, I’m struggling to remember details –not a good sign!

However, this novella also contains three short stories - House of Flowers, a tale about prostitute in Port-a-Prince who falls in love and leaves her profession – a decision her close friends struggle to come to terms with, A Diamond Guitar about a hardened criminal in prison whose life is touched by a young man, and (my favourite of the three) A Christmas Memory a seven year old and a “sixty-something” year old who are cousins and best friends. I must admit that I preferred these to the main story – I would say it’s worth getting hold of the book for these as they were great!

[bookconcierge · Calificación: 5 de 5 estrellas]

A gem. A masterpiece. Capote's spot-on dialogue tells the story, rather than rely on description. The date I've recorded is when our book club discussed it, but I had read this novella a couple of times before, probably as far back as the late 1960s. The particular edition I read was a collection of stories which also included "House of FLowers" "Diamond Guitar" and "A Christmas Memory." The last is one of my favorite works by Capote.

[tommi180744 · Calificación: 4 de 5 estrellas]

A 100 pages vividly descriptive story of a certain sort of refined, young, nimble, adventurous, stand-alone lady: but no matter how its couched in the end this lady is Capote's ahead of time, perceptive, lively account of an independent-minded, ambitious & morally flexible woman that has become the norm among modern late-20th & 21st century young females in a sort of equality to males in the western world. An immensely enjoyable read - although already in some ways a 'period piece'. There are 3 additional Short Stories in this publication.

[dukefan86 · Calificación: 3 de 5 estrellas]

For such a short book, it took me a while to get through Breakfast at Tiffany's! The plot was darker than I expected it to be, but was still interesting. I also enjoyed the short stories after Breakfast at Tiffany's. "A Christmas Memory" was especially poignant.

[jennyo_587543 · Calificación: 5 de 5 estrellas]

I love this book. It's so lovely and so sad. It's not like the movie (which I also love) with its Hollywood ending, though there are entire scenes in the movie lifted directly from the book. If you've only ever seen the movie, you really should read the book, but be prepared to have your heart broken.My copy also has the short stories "House of Flowers", "A Diamond Guitar", and "A Christmas Memory", all of which are beautiful stories in their own right. The stories, like the novella, are shot through with melancholy and love.This one's a keeper.

[petreaburchard · Calificación: 5 de 5 estrellas]

I don't even like Holly. She's not a person I would ever want to rub shoulders with and I don't care a whit what happens to her. But Capote is a master. He's simply a master, damn it. I'll read him again and again and hope some of his brilliance seeps into my pen.

Petrea Burchard
Camelot & Vine

[aliceanna-1 · Calificación: 3 de 5 estrellas]

I really need to see the film now because I can't see Audrey Hepburn as Holly Golightly the way Capote wrote her. The novel and the stories that follow carry a certain melancholy remembrance that is sadly poignant.

[willowstarserenity · Calificación: 5 de 5 estrellas]

Breakfast at Tiffany's is a novella that takes place during the World War II Era. It is written by Truman Capote. It is about a woman named Holly Golightly and a man she refers to as Fred living life in New York and looking for love. Holly is young and adventurous and constantly seeks fun and excitement. Fred is a shy writer who has grown highly fond by Holly and her adventurous nature.I really loved this little story. It was cute. It was scandalous. It was beautiful. It's really and truly a classic. I have to be honest though. I watched the movie before I read this book. Both were great though. It may just be a silly story to many people, but not to me. It's really cute and adorable. I feel that this story flows very nicely. The characters were developed properly. The conversations flowed properly. My only issue is that it wasn't long enough. That's my issue for all short stories and novellas though. I am the type of person that just enjoys the longer stories. I still read short stories and novellas though. I wouldn't say that Breakfast at Tiffany's is a must read, but I'd definitely recommend it. It's more targeted to the female audience, but I'm sure that there will be guys out there who will take enjoyment out of the book too. My best advice to anybody would be give it a shot. That's my advice with all books though.

[mels_71_1 · Calificación: 3 de 5 estrellas]

After quite a few very long recent reads it was a relief to pick up Breakfast at Tiffany's and read it in a few short sessions at school pickups. I must be one of the few people who hasn't seen the film so I came to the book with no idea of what it was about. The writing style was easy to read and he captured the characters wonderfully. Holly is one of those characters that are both endearing and annoying, usually simultaneously, just like real life people. You couldn't help but like her but I was left wanting to know what happens next. An enjoyable read.

[sadiebooks_1 · Calificación: 5 de 5 estrellas]

the book is soooo much better than the movie. and i love the movie

[dknight0918 · Calificación: 4 de 5 estrellas]

I re-read this one while I was @ WLC and actually enjoyed it this time.


Listening to the audiobook.

[smiler69 · Calificación: 3 de 5 estrellas]

I discovered Breakfast at Tiffany's as a small child, when I saw the movie on television. Much later, I read somewhere that Truman Capote had been unhappy with the choice of Hepburn to play Holly Golightly and also that the movie was a tame version of the much grittier novel. While I thought the different tone of the novel was interesting, and I actually liked the grittier bits, it didn't especially appeal to me as a whole. I think this might be because I've seen the movie countless times and have always been enamoured with Audrey Hepburn, who became my icon when I discovered her first in that role when I was much too young to catch on to what it was exactly that Holly was doing with those ugly rich old men. And the movie is undeniably beautiful and fun in so many ways that I had a hard time stopping myself from making comparisons when reading the book. This is definitely a case where I would probably have enjoyed the book much more for it's own sake had I read it before I became such a big fan of the movie. But then, I'm not sure I would have been able to appreciate Truman Capote writing all that much before the age of 5 either...

[ursula_2 · Calificación: 4 de 5 estrellas]

A quick read, it's really more of a novella. Quite a number of things were different from the movie, most glaringly the ending. Unsurprisingly, the book leaves it all more open-ended. Although I'm not a fan of Hollywood endings, I think the book would have benefitted from a bit more definition in the wrap-up.

[jcbrunner · Calificación: 4 de 5 estrellas]

The recent publication of "Fifth Avenue, 5AM: Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany's" about the making of the eponymous film is a good occasion to read Truman Capote's novella. The novella is both darker and more complex than the film. The narrator, presented with an empty bird case, observes the bird both in and out of its cage. The film emphasizes the superficial light and comedian elements of the story, the novella reveals its tragic corners, a tale of re-invention in adversity, a transformation that stretches the suspension of disbelief to the limit.Capote created with Holly Golightly an iconic American female character, a person living in the now, clawing its way to success, generous and mean, extrovert and depressive - sort of a female Frank Sinatra. A quick rewarding read.

[mrstreme · Calificación: 4 de 5 estrellas]

I had the sweet, innocent face of Audrey Hepburn burned into my head when I started this novella. Not knowing anything about this story, except for the movie poster, I was quite surprised to learn that Holly Golightly was, in fact, a prostitute. I laughed out loud when I discovered this fact. In fact, I grinned my way through most of this story, but the overall impression I have of Breakast at Tiffany's was a story about desperation.Holly Golightly is an interesting character. She's a train wreck, living a glamorous life, turning tricks and capable of explosive outbursts and grudges. She's one of those girls who enters a room and presents a whole new energy. You're drawn to her like a Venus flytrap. However, underneath the glamour, is a girl with lots of secrets, naivete and innocence about life. It's this side of her that causes her undoing.I have not seen the movie, and I am curious to know how, in 1961, they pulled off a character like Holly, who is not prim or proper. One day, I'll have to find out.Breakfast at Tiffany's is a delightful story - far from perfect and full of life - just like Holly Golightly herself.

[paolam-1 · Calificación: 4 de 5 estrellas]

I really loved this book - it took me a while to understand why: I did not take to Holly Golightly, and I suspect nor wanted the author. There isn't much for him to like in her, an aspiring author confronted with a scatterbrained, unlucky, unhinged, disoriented girl not much versed for nurturing her more intellectual sides besides skimming books to extract the bare minimum to get a conversation going with a potential sugar-daddy. Surely there is nothing in common and yet... and yet "Fred" quite simply falls in love, and this is the beauty of the story for me. It is a beautiful, touching, melancholic story of how we fall in love, and get hurt, and even after many years go back with aching sweetness to a story that never was.

Never saw the movie, but I doubt it can live up to the book.

[vivl_6 · Calificación: 5 de 5 estrellas]

This book made me feel greedy--I wanted to inhale it in one gulp.You know, I thought I must be in a funny mood this year because I hadn't LOVED any of the books I'd read so far. Now I find that it wasn't me, it was the books. This was just magical. Once again, I found myself wondering how, How, I say HOW did this man do it? How did he write such utter perfection? Along with Breakfast at Tiffany's, the novella featuring engaging alley-cat Holiday Golightly (a character who made me realise I can indeed feel great affection for a ruthless character -- Holly's personality is worlds away from that of On the Road's revolting Dean), this collection includes three short stories: 'House of Flowers', 'A Diamond Guitar', and 'A Christmas Memory'. While I loved Breakfast, I ADORED the short stories. Such wonderfully rich, beautifully observed, intensely moving slices of gorgeousness. Wow!Capote seems to have been the master of all aspects of writing. He drew characters deftly in a minimum of words, but you can SEE that character immediately in your mind's eye and the writing style, while clear and understandable, is not prosaic or dull; rather, it is somehow shimmering: "Mr Schaeffer (...) is a lanky, pulled-out man. He has reddish, silvering hair, and his face is attenuated, religious; there is no flesh to him; you can see the workings of his bones, and his eyes are a poor, dull colour." The scene setting is similarly evocative: "Royal's house was like a house of flowers; wisteria sheltered the roof, a curtain of vines shaded the windows, lilies bloomed at the door. From the windows one could see far, faint winkings of the sea, as the house was high up a hill; here the sun burned hot but the shadows were cold. Inside, the house was always dark and cool, and the walls rustled with pasted pink and green newspapers. There was only one room; it contained a stove, a teetering mirror on top of a marble table, and a brass bed big enough for three fat men." Can't you just see it? It's as though you could walk right into it. His dialogue and plotting are of the same superb standard. It is frankly mind-boggling.I clearly need to read every Capote I can lay my mitts on.

[evangelista_2 · Calificación: 4 de 5 estrellas]

I had never read Breakfast at Tiffany’s or anything else by Truman Capote. Lovely, sad, and in many ways, quite a bit different than the movie.The novella, in part, details a struggle between a desire for freedom and a desire for a place to belong. Holly Golightly is a self-defined traveler and wild thing, defending the right of both human and animal to live outside the cage. Yet she also desires to live as a family again with her brother, Fred, and hopes for a child and marriage with her South American boyfriend. The narrator exists adrift in the text, nameless and without job security yet he craves home and literary success.Derogatory slang of the time aside, the text offers a subtle and interesting view into how sexuality can be both freeing and limiting as well. Holly practices a measure of self-deception in not equating the money she receives from men she has “banged” with prostitution. She views it rather as given with at least the illusion of love, and as a means to an end – her continued freedom to exist as she chooses outside the rules and expectations of others. Capote’s depictions of the gay men within the work are also defining moments as they reflect both the social constrictions of the time and Capote's suggested possibility that asexual unions, freed from the burden and unpredictability of desire, can yield a purer form of love or devotion.Fragile and lovely. Sad and empowering. Thoughtful rhythmical read for those interested in a struggle to live outside the box where the unattainable - breakfast at Tiffany’s - exists as the ideal.

[regularguy5mb · Calificación: 4 de 5 estrellas]

The movie has always been one of my all-time favorites, so I knew I would eventually read the book so I could see how it differed. Now, I've finally had the chance to read the book, and I can see why many of the changes from book to movie were made, especially the ending (considering when the movie was made, it would have been impossible to get any studio to use the book ending).I was surprised how close the movie held to the original story, considering how much I've heard from others how the two varied. I was glad to see many of the things I love about the movie were directly from the book and not entirely Hollywood creations. Still, I don't think anyone could have handled the structure of that party scene better than Blake Edwards.Also included in this book are several short stories from Capote. They all have similar tones to Breakfast at Tiffany's, even if the content is varied. They have that level of sweet sentimentality mixed with the sadness of real life and hard times. Bittersweet might be the best way to describe them, but then, I think that kind of describes Capote as well.

[laurochka-1 · Calificación: 4 de 5 estrellas]

I enjoyed Holly's character here just as much as the movie although I found this more melancholy than the movie.

[enemyanniemae · Calificación: 5 de 5 estrellas]

Amazing. Seriously. Truman Capote does with words what Van Gogh does with paint. These are some of the most alive and breathing stories I have had the pleasure of reading. All of the stories, from the novella Breakfast at Tiffany's to the short story A Christmas Memory, are full of emotion and beauty and pain. Maybe it's the Southern influence. I know these characters. I've met them and had Sunday dinner with them. They're all family. Just amazing. Seriously.

[bontley · Calificación: 4 de 5 estrellas]

Really enjoyed it.

[brighterudite · Calificación: 5 de 5 estrellas]

Breakfast at Tiffany's is a wonderful read, but the other stories are also beautifully written. My favorite among them was A Christmas Memory. Bittersweet, but definitely worth reading.

[vonze-1 · Calificación: 3 de 5 estrellas]

This was surprisingly disappointing to me. Having never read Capote's work, but enjoying the movie, I decided to cross this one off my to-read list.

Capote was a talented writer, however, the subject matter in Breakfast at Tiffany's was just depressing to me. Holly Golightly is a wild, white-trash, country girl who has escaped to the big city, only to continue to spiral into drama and sadness. Her character is crude, self-centered, and vain. In today's world, she'd be a reality tv star. One could argue that she's also a pathological liar.

Big jump from the elegance and sensitivity that Audrey Hepburn naturally brought to the role. If a true-to-the-book movie was being made, I'd probably cast Lindsay Lohan instead.

In summary, it's a well-written but sad slice-of-life. Not what I imagined because of the movie. I probably would have enjoyed re-watching the movie more than reading this.

[cinesnail88 · Calificación: 4 de 5 estrellas]

So, after all of this time of wanting to read In Cold Blood, I finally tried out some Capote, albeit not the one I was planning on. Overall, I found his style rather strange, and I am still very unsure of whether or not I liked it. The copy of this that I had also had three other short stories in it, and though all of them were entertaining, I didn't feel too much connection. As far as the headlining story, I was very much interested in Ms. Holly Golightly and her adventures, but I found the writing at times hard to follow, or something. I'm not exactly sure, I don't honestly know how I felt about it.

[xuebi-1 · Calificación: 4 de 5 estrellas]

Holly Golightly is an American cultural icon, mainly thanks to Audrey Hepburn's portrayal of her in the film, Breakfast at Tiffany's. In Capote's novella, we meet the original Miss Golightly and Capote's portrayal of her, indeed of 1940s New York, is deserving of praise. With an excellent air for description, Capote allows the reader just a glimpse into the mysterious life of the girl-about-New York through the eyes of those obsessed with her.

A short but well-constructed novella, Norman Mailer was right to state that he "would not have changed two words in Breakfast at Tiffany's" since Capote is an excellent writer and this is surely one of his finest works.

This volume also contains three shorter stories: House of Flowers about a Haitian girl who leaves the big city, turning down a rich man to marry a poor mountain boy; A Diamond Guitar about two felons whose intimate yet platonic relationship is spoilt in an escape attempt; and A Christmas Memory, about a period in the lives of the seven-year-old narrator and an elderly woman who is his distant cousin and best friend. Of these three stories, the last is the one that stands out the most in its simple descriptions of country life and friendship along with its autobiographical elements.