Pastoralia
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3,0 • 1 valutazione
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- 7,99 €
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- 7,99 €
Descrizione dell’editore
In un futuro prossimo in cui il consumismo e l'aziendalismo regnano incontrastati, i personaggi sono ingabbiati in esistenze assurde e umilianti: chi deve interpretare il cavernicolo in un parco a tema, scuoiando capre di giorno e facendo rapporto via fax al capo ogni sera; chi fa lo spogliarellista in uno strip club dove le clienti compilano severissime «Classifiche dei Carini»; chi cerca l'autostima in improbabili incontri motivazionali o l'amore nell'aula di un corso di recupero per automobilisti indisciplinati.
Nella sua seconda raccolta di racconti, che l'ha consacrato come l'erede di Mark Twain e Kurt Vonnegut nel filone più comico e immaginifico della letteratura americana, George Saunders descrive un mondo grottesco e tragicomico, rivelandosi però un maestro nel cogliere i piccoli gesti di umanità e gentilezza capaci di far rinascere la speranza.
PUBLISHERS WEEKLY
Saunders's extraordinary talent is in top form in his second collection (after CivilWarLand in Bad Decline), in which his vision of a hellishly (and hopefully) exaggerated dystopia of late capitalist America is warmed and impassioned by his regular, irregular and flat-out wacky characters. Merging the spirit of James Thurber with the world of the Simpsons, Saunders's five stories and title novella feature protagonists who are losers yet also innocent dreamers: in "Winky," a single guy lives with his sister but hopes to improve his life with his new self-help cult's mantra, "Now is the time for me to win!" The tales pit bleak existences with details so contemporary they're futuristic, as in "Pastoralia," where the narrator is a "re-enactor" who lives in a cave as part of an exhibit in the Pastoralia theme park. Authenticity demands that he speak no English, pretend to draw pictographs on the wall and eat goat. His cave partner, Janet, is driving him crazy, because she uses English, smokes and hates goat; meanwhile, the clumsy, bullying management leans on the narrator to testify against her. In "Sea Oak," the narrator is a beleaguered male stripper who lives with his Aunt Bernie and two other relatives, both clueless, young single mothers whose dialogue consists of trashy talk-show vernacular. They eke out their lives in foggy complacency until the pathetically passive Bernie dies and comes back to life to boss around the household: "I never got nothing! My life was shit! I was never even up in a freaking plane." These characters may not have much, but they do possess the author's compassion, and so are enigmas of decency enshrouded in dark, TV-hobbled dumbness. Saunders, with a voice unlike any other writer's, makes these losers funny, plausible and absolutely winning.
