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Sto caricando le informazioni... La valigia (1986)di Sergei Dovlatov
Books Read in 2016 (784) Russian Literature (149) Sto caricando le informazioni...
Iscriviti per consentire a LibraryThing di scoprire se ti piacerà questo libro. Attualmente non vi sono conversazioni su questo libro. Al igual que la mayoría de las obras de Serguéi Dovlátov, La maleta está teñida de un fuerte componente autobiográfico, algo inevitable en un autor con una intensa vida marcada por las circunstancias históricas. El protagonista de la narración se ve obligado a hacer el equipaje para emprender un largo viaje de ida sin billete de vuelta. Mientras va introduciendo en una única maleta todos los objetos que le van a acompañar -muchos menos de los que se esperaba-, el narrador va recuperando episodios de su pasado, fragmentos de una trayectoria vital que le ha llevado hasta donde está ahora, pero con la que inevitablemente debe cortar de raíz. A partir de una ingeniosa excusa narrativa, Serguéi Dovlátov va retratando con un humor corrosivo, un toque de melancolía y un lenguaje sencillo pero contundente la difícil situación que se padecía en la Unión Soviética real, tan alejada de la versión oficial que se vendía al exterior. El libro más celebrado de Serguéi Dovlátov se recrea en el escaso contenido de la única maleta que lo acompañó en su exilio. Cada uno de los inútiles objetos que constituyeron su patrimonio nos conduce a un lugar memorable de su biografía. Mago del estilo, Dovlátov entrega aquí lo más parecido a un canon de su escritura. Preciso, despojado e irónico, el resultado es también un índice tragicómico del tejido espiritual, social y político de la URSS. La engañosa liviandad de su prosa, su disposición para reírse de sí mismo y su extraordinaria capacidad para el retrato humano han convertido a Serguéi Dovlátov en uno de los grandes maestros de las letras rusas de la segunda mitad del siglo xx. Doblatov is a writer of my favored kind. He is sharp, witty and funny. The contents of his book are taken from the author's life, which, like many others in Soviet Russia, are not easy, to say the least, and especially those who oppose the regime and have to maneuver between their faith and their opinion and reality. What helped a lot in dealing with the conflicts was alcohol, the cheapest type made in Russia or foreign products, from another Communist source like Romania for example. Most of the text conducted between drunken periods. Although the stories in the book are not simple and describe a depressing reality, I found myself bursting out laughing because humor, as we all know, is an excellent tool for dealing with trouble. The stories took place in the 1960s when the gates of Russia opened somewhat to immigrants. Devaltov, who was able to take advantage of this opportunity, chose to remain in Russia, while his wife and daughter had emigrated to America and he joined them only later. The first story of the book described the period during his wife's migration when they separated, and he moved away to a reserve that was a museum dedicated to Pushkin and served there as a tour guide. There is something in this reserve (which exists in reality) that symbolizes the whole of Russia and the different ways that people have found to deal with life there. The second story is a collection of beautiful stories, all related. They, too, are taken directly from Dovlatov's life. Each story based on an item that was in the pantry with which he eventually emigrated to the United States. Sergej Dowlatow ist aus der Sowjetunion in die USA ausgewandert. Seinen einzigen Koffer, den er mitnehmen durfte, packt er erst Jahre später aus und nimmt ihn zum Anlass, seine Geschichte zu erzählen. V.a. Kleidungsstücke sind es, finnische Acrylsocken, ein gediegener Zweireiher, Schuhe eines Bürgermeisters, die Jacke von Fernand Léger oder das Popeline-Hemd, an denen sich die Geschichte eines Lebens in der Sowjetunion darstellen lässt. Der Autor erzählt gleichermaßen schelmisch wie wehmütig. Das Buch ist schnell und leicht gelesen, die Geschichten gehen dennoch nahe.
Zadie Smith wrote a whole novel White Teeth with a similar comic sensibility to Dovlatov's but it fizzes away relentlessly for over 500 pages and I do mean relentlessly. Dovlatov's Suitcase is much more laconic, more sparse, a collage of pinpricks that looks random, but, when you step back, actually paints a devastating picture of life in the madhouse that was Soviet Russia. 'I had once worked for a factory newsletter,' Dovlatov writes. 'My wife had been a hairdresser. There was very little that could still shock us.' Perhaps you have to live in a fundamentally, not just wacky, but evil system as Gogol did, as Dovlatov did to strike this kind of note of poker-faced levity. Dovlatov is a master almost Gogol reborn. The mark of a book's ability to move, instruct and entertain is the way in which it is read. To say one can't put a book down is not the highest form of praise. It intimates that the prose is dispensable, that there are no turns of phrase worth relishing. A better book is one the reader would love to gulp down in one sitting, but chooses instead to savor. Sergei Dovlatov's new collection of interrelated vignettes, ''The Suitcase,'' adroitly translated by Antonina W. Bouis, fits into this second category. I predict most readers will roar through the first two-thirds of this novel, then, upon realizing there are only a few chapters left, stop reading in an effort to stave off finishing it. The final chapters will be hoarded and cherished, doled out one at a time as a reward after a bad day.
Sergei Dovlatov's subtle, dark-edged humor and wry observations are in full force in The Suitcase as he examines eight objects--the items he brought with him in his luggage upon his emigration from the U.S.S.R. These seemingly undistinguished possessions, stuffed into a worn-out suitcase, take on a riotously funny life of their own as Dovlatov inventories the circumstances under which he acquired them, occasioning a brilliant series of interconnected tales: A poplin shirt evokes the bittersweet story of a courtship and marriage, while a pair of boots (of the kind only the Nomenklatura can afford) calls up the hilarious conclusion to an official banquet. Some driving gloves--remnants of Dovlatov's short-lived acting career--share space with neon-green crepe socks, reminders of a failed black-market scam. And in curious juxtaposition, the belt from a prison guard's uniform lies next to a stained jacket that once belonged to Fernand Léger. Imbued with a comic nostalgia overlaid with Dovlatov's characteristically dry wit, The Suitcase is an intensely human, delightfully ironic novel from "the finest Soviet satirist to appear in English since Vladimir Voinovich." Non sono state trovate descrizioni di biblioteche |
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Google Books — Sto caricando le informazioni... GeneriSistema Decimale Melvil (DDC)891.7344Literature Literature of other languages Literature of east Indo-European and Celtic languages Russian and East Slavic languages Russian fiction USSR 1917–1991 Late 20th century 1917–1991Classificazione LCVotoMedia:
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