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3.81 AVERAGE
3.81 AVERAGE
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Not my favorite Auster. I couldn't get on board with the characters and certain parts were predictable and boring. But one of those books that's better as a whole than the sum of the parts.
medium-paced
I don’t know what dragged me along, but I finished most of this in a day. Maybe it was catching so much of Auster in the strange (but never strained!) pages, from baseball to tender loves, that reeled me in. It’s not the sort of book that makes you ask why (or maybe I just didn’t want to); you’d just read along, awash with the many peopled feelings. Absurdist? Absolutely. Absurd? Yes.
I read this book for class. No, I'm not going to follow that with an 'and thus I hated it', so if that's your type of thing, shoo. I won't deny that some of those mandated readings during those readers of yore were a total slog, but that was more if not wholly due to extenuating circumstances of teaching style/my young self than the novel itself. Now that I'm older and have an almost obsessively vested interest in literature, I can look at these classroom assignments in book form and say, hm. That really wasn't so bad.
More than not bad, actually. Not great, but rather good, the rough sort of polish that would in fact be much more appropriate to the high school setting than all that Shakespeare and Dickens and a whole host of other books that should only be taught if the teacher really knows what they're doing, and that rarely happens, if at all. The one case I can personally remember of complete and utter success was that of senior year Hamlet; the rest barely surface in the memory as a quick liked or didn't like notation, except for the couple that I absolutely loathed. Now, I can't claim that, had I been offered Mr. Vertigo for inspection fully acquitted by state standards of education, I would remember it today in a positive, well-that-was-worth-it light. I am fairly certain, though, there would have been a very good chance of it.
First thing, this is not the Great American Novel. Which is fantastic, because frankly that is not the sort of thing that the majority of high school students are going to give the smallest flying crap about. Instead, it is a very American Novel. Easily swallowable sentences, fast paced action, the kind of visual imagery well adapted to the movie screen, and vulgar realism in the manner of 1920's United States, home of vaudeville, baseball, and the thick and viscous grime of rampant racism that flowed with all the speed of a horde of horsed members of the Ku Klux Klan. Also, did I mention swearing? Because swearing.
So, this novel is not tidy. It is not nice. It is not highflown with phenomenal use of language or aspirations towards justice in the sort of prettied up metaphorics that will either astound you or send you to sleep, depending on just how much you care about the potential of the written word, which when concerning the average high school reader with the average high school English teacher is close to nil. Or college English professor, because while I have to thank the prof for getting me to read this, my enjoyment would have been a stunted and sluggish thing had I completely relied on his guidance. Regardless, with this complete lack of all those characteristics of 'highbrow' literature (which I love, I really do, but the cults clamoring around all these mostly dead old white men? not so much), what does this book have to offer?
What it has to offer is a a good ol' tugging on the emotions in every direction, a straightforward stripping down of stereotypes into their viciously ignorant realities including the horrors that result from such, and heart. So much heart that I guarantee a few of even those oh so hardened high school kids will bawl their eyes out at least once by the time the last page is turned. Better yet, they will have understood exactly what this book is trying to achieve, beyond all the insipid blatherings of symbolism and foreshadowing and every other keyword that makes me wince whenever I'm forced to use them in my own writing. They will identify this little boy, this pompous prat, who starts out as the most racist brat that ever spewed out bigoted phrases a mile a minute, and ends as an old man who has ridden the highs, drowned in the lows, and is typical in every way except the amazing life he led, and all that he carved into his bones from it. Best of all, they will see the US in its glory and its filth, and will be left to decide on their own terms just how they will deal with it. Something that few, if any, high school books that I remember dealt with in such a tender and unflinching fashion. To Kill a Mockingbird is one thing; a look at prejudiced realities with all their specific language and harmful effects without one bit of comforting distance is quite another.
In short, if I ever find myself at the head of a high school English classroom (looking more plausible by the day), I'll be keeping this book in mind. Okay, so the book is easy to read, and won't challenge high schoolers as much (on a ridiculously incomprehensible level) as 'David Copperfield' or 'The Odyssey'. Who cares? Look, we'll keep those, but how about sacrificing a Hemingway in the name of something enjoyable that isn't riddled with misogyny and other bigoted bents? It's not like he isn't plenty popular enough, and truthfully, The Sun Also Rises hurt my soul. I'll keep it on for outside reading though, make everyone happy.
So. How about it?
More than not bad, actually. Not great, but rather good, the rough sort of polish that would in fact be much more appropriate to the high school setting than all that Shakespeare and Dickens and a whole host of other books that should only be taught if the teacher really knows what they're doing, and that rarely happens, if at all. The one case I can personally remember of complete and utter success was that of senior year Hamlet; the rest barely surface in the memory as a quick liked or didn't like notation, except for the couple that I absolutely loathed. Now, I can't claim that, had I been offered Mr. Vertigo for inspection fully acquitted by state standards of education, I would remember it today in a positive, well-that-was-worth-it light. I am fairly certain, though, there would have been a very good chance of it.
First thing, this is not the Great American Novel. Which is fantastic, because frankly that is not the sort of thing that the majority of high school students are going to give the smallest flying crap about. Instead, it is a very American Novel. Easily swallowable sentences, fast paced action, the kind of visual imagery well adapted to the movie screen, and vulgar realism in the manner of 1920's United States, home of vaudeville, baseball, and the thick and viscous grime of rampant racism that flowed with all the speed of a horde of horsed members of the Ku Klux Klan. Also, did I mention swearing? Because swearing.
So, this novel is not tidy. It is not nice. It is not highflown with phenomenal use of language or aspirations towards justice in the sort of prettied up metaphorics that will either astound you or send you to sleep, depending on just how much you care about the potential of the written word, which when concerning the average high school reader with the average high school English teacher is close to nil. Or college English professor, because while I have to thank the prof for getting me to read this, my enjoyment would have been a stunted and sluggish thing had I completely relied on his guidance. Regardless, with this complete lack of all those characteristics of 'highbrow' literature (which I love, I really do, but the cults clamoring around all these mostly dead old white men? not so much), what does this book have to offer?
What it has to offer is a a good ol' tugging on the emotions in every direction, a straightforward stripping down of stereotypes into their viciously ignorant realities including the horrors that result from such, and heart. So much heart that I guarantee a few of even those oh so hardened high school kids will bawl their eyes out at least once by the time the last page is turned. Better yet, they will have understood exactly what this book is trying to achieve, beyond all the insipid blatherings of symbolism and foreshadowing and every other keyword that makes me wince whenever I'm forced to use them in my own writing. They will identify this little boy, this pompous prat, who starts out as the most racist brat that ever spewed out bigoted phrases a mile a minute, and ends as an old man who has ridden the highs, drowned in the lows, and is typical in every way except the amazing life he led, and all that he carved into his bones from it. Best of all, they will see the US in its glory and its filth, and will be left to decide on their own terms just how they will deal with it. Something that few, if any, high school books that I remember dealt with in such a tender and unflinching fashion. To Kill a Mockingbird is one thing; a look at prejudiced realities with all their specific language and harmful effects without one bit of comforting distance is quite another.
In short, if I ever find myself at the head of a high school English classroom (looking more plausible by the day), I'll be keeping this book in mind. Okay, so the book is easy to read, and won't challenge high schoolers as much (on a ridiculously incomprehensible level) as 'David Copperfield' or 'The Odyssey'. Who cares? Look, we'll keep those, but how about sacrificing a Hemingway in the name of something enjoyable that isn't riddled with misogyny and other bigoted bents? It's not like he isn't plenty popular enough, and truthfully, The Sun Also Rises hurt my soul. I'll keep it on for outside reading though, make everyone happy.
So. How about it?
"Avevo 12 anni la prima volta che camminai sull'acqua." Oddio, e chi è? Gesù era assai più vecchio, quando camminò sull'acqua! Questo prodigio è Walt, un ragazzino americano dell'inizio del secolo, un piccolo mendicante che viene preso sotto custodia da un misterioso maestro, che dice di aver riconosciuto in lui "il dono", la possibilità di trascendere se stesso e levitare, e non solo levitare, ma camminare e compiere evoluzioni nell'aria. In una sperduta fattoria americana, in compagnia di una vecchia indiana e di un ragazzo nero e storpio, Walt inizia il suo addestramento, un trattamento che sembra fatto di gratuita crudeltà e che ha lo scopo di insegnargli a uscire da se stesso, ma anche ad accettare e riconoscere tutto quello che si trova davanti, compresi i suoi strani, e all'inizio sgraditi, compagni di avventura. E un bel giorno Walt ce la fa, prima levita, poi cammina, poi è in grado di dare spettacolo sospeso nel nulla, e inizia una folgorante carriera come attrazione nel luna park e nei teatri di quell'America ancora ingenua. Poi tutto cambia: l'inizio della pubertà presenta il conto, assieme a qualche fantasma del passato e a una malattia mortale, e Walt è costretto a restare a terra per sempre. Privato del suo maestro, si reinventerà una vita e farà molti errori, eppure, dentro di sé, resterà per sempre Walt the Wonderboy, fino al giorno in cui sarà di nuovo pronto ad alzarsi nell'aria, questa volta senza temere conseguenze.
Magnifico romanzo di formazione, speciale perché apparentemente privo di una morale da trasmettere e popolato da personaggi di una realtà strabiliante. Probabilmente il miglior Auster da me letto finora.
"I was 12 years old the first time I walked on the water." My God, who is he? Jesus was much older, when he walked on the water! This prodigy is Walt, an American kid at the beginning of the century, a small beggar who is taken into custody by a mysterious master, who says he recognized in him "the gift", the ability to transcend himself and levitate, and not just levitate, but walk and make routines in the air. Marooned at an American farm, in the company of an old Indian lady and a black and cripple guy, Walt begins his training, a treatment that seems made of groundless cruelty and which aims to teach him to quit himself, but also to accept and acknowledge everything that lies before, including his strange and unwelcome at first, fellow adventurers. And one fine day Walt he first levitates, then walks, then he can give a show suspended in thin air, and begins a dazzling career as an attraction in the amusement park and the theatres of that still naïve America. Then everything changes: the onset of puberty presents the Bill, along with some ghost of the past and to a fatal disease, and Walt is forced to stay down forever. Deprived of his master, he will reinterpret a life for himself and will make many mistakes, yet within them, he will forever remain Walt the Wonderboy, until the day when he will be ready to get up in the air, this time without fear of consequences. Magnificent bildungsroman, special because apparently devoid of a moral to be transmitted and populated by characters of astounding reality. Probably the best Auster I've read so far.
Magnifico romanzo di formazione, speciale perché apparentemente privo di una morale da trasmettere e popolato da personaggi di una realtà strabiliante. Probabilmente il miglior Auster da me letto finora.
"I was 12 years old the first time I walked on the water." My God, who is he? Jesus was much older, when he walked on the water! This prodigy is Walt, an American kid at the beginning of the century, a small beggar who is taken into custody by a mysterious master, who says he recognized in him "the gift", the ability to transcend himself and levitate, and not just levitate, but walk and make routines in the air. Marooned at an American farm, in the company of an old Indian lady and a black and cripple guy, Walt begins his training, a treatment that seems made of groundless cruelty and which aims to teach him to quit himself, but also to accept and acknowledge everything that lies before, including his strange and unwelcome at first, fellow adventurers. And one fine day Walt he first levitates, then walks, then he can give a show suspended in thin air, and begins a dazzling career as an attraction in the amusement park and the theatres of that still naïve America. Then everything changes: the onset of puberty presents the Bill, along with some ghost of the past and to a fatal disease, and Walt is forced to stay down forever. Deprived of his master, he will reinterpret a life for himself and will make many mistakes, yet within them, he will forever remain Walt the Wonderboy, until the day when he will be ready to get up in the air, this time without fear of consequences. Magnificent bildungsroman, special because apparently devoid of a moral to be transmitted and populated by characters of astounding reality. Probably the best Auster I've read so far.
I enjoyed this book in a small way. It didn't rock my world, but it was an enjoyable tale, well told. I think I have missed allegorical layers, as I was unable to pin down the arc of North American history that I understand was there. I could have done without the pages and pages of baseball stuff - but the characters were quirky without being ludicrous and the voice of the narrator was strong, consistent, and believable.
Όπως και ο πρωταγωνιστής του βιβλίου, ο αναγνώστης ίσως ζοριστεί λίγο στην αρχή όσο κρατάει η εκπαίδευση του μικρού Γουόλτ δηλαδή, αλλά θα τον αποζημιώσει η συνέχεια της ιστορίας με τη συμπλοκή προσωπικής/συλλογικής ιστορίας στην Αμερική του 20ου αιώνα μέσα από την υλιστική ματιά του Όστερ.
Ο τίτλος δε κατάλαβα γιατί έμεινε αμετάφραστος.
Ο τίτλος δε κατάλαβα γιατί έμεινε αμετάφραστος.
adventurous
emotional
sad
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Complicated
For me this is a case where the good is good enough to overshadow the parts I didn't like. What I didn't like was especially the third chapter of the book, which just felt too much dragging. I also found one scene unnecessary and a bit too...unappetizing. But those are relatively minor issues for me because I loved the characters and there are a couple of really strong emotional moments that stuck with me for some time after finishing.
Lettura piacevole ma non entusiasmante. Per i miei gusti, un po’ troppa retorica.