vineri, 8 septembrie 2017

David Sedaris -Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim

David Sedaris este un tip super savuros, atât ca scriitor, cât şi ca om (a venit de vreo douã ori în România pânã acum; dacã mai apare, sã nu-l rataţi; e cel mai bun act de stand up gratuit şi neintenţionat ca atare).
"Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim" este o carte, cu tentã autobiograficã, despre familii, evident, unele dintre cele mai ciudate, neaşteptate, sincere în disfuncţionalitatea lor familii din literaturã. Cartea este alcãtuitã din povestiri relativ autonome care suprind diverse episoade care l-au marcat din copilãria, tinereţea şi maturitatea scriitorului asupra cãrora ţicneala pãrinţilor şi-au lãsat inevitabil amprenta, incluzând descoperirea propriei homosexualitãţi.
Deşi umorul specific Sedaris apare peste tot, unele fragmente mustesc în spate de o tristeţe şi un sentiment de "this is so so wrong".

Mama este personajul cel mai puternic conturat, contrastant, relatat cu o duioşie subtilã deşi tipa e dusã clar cu capu’.

"At two A.M. on a school night, my mother would not say, "Go to sleep", but rather, "Shouldn’t you be tired?" It wasn’t a command, but a sincere question, the answer provoking little more than a shrug. "Suit yourself," she’d say, pouring what was likely to be her thirtieth or forty-second cup of coffee. "I’m not sleepy, either. Don’t know why, but I’m not.""

"The suits she wore, the delicate bridges holding her teeth in place – it was all an invention. "You live in bad neighborhoods so you can feel superior," she’d say, the introduction, always, to a fight. "The point is to move up in the world. Even sideways will do in a pinch, but what’s the point in moving down?" As a relative newcomer to the middle class, she worried that her children might slip back into the world of public assistance and bad teeth. The finer things were not yet in our blood, or at least that was the way she saw it. My thrift-shop clothing drove her up the wall, as did the secondhand mattress lying without benefit of box springs upon my hardwood floor. "It’s not ironic," she’d say. "It’s not ethnic. It’s filthy.""

Si ca sã aveţi o idee despre întorsãturile de frazã ale lui Sedaris: 
"The only thing worse than a twenty-five-year-old with a Vietnam flashback was a fourteen-year-old with a Vietnam flash-forward."

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