5 libri leggeri da portare in spiaggia

Vi devo confessare una cosa (e qui rischio di essere cacciato per sempre dalla Facoltà di Lettere): non sopporto Joyce*, non sopporto Proust e, francamente, se devo scegliere fra un intervento dal dentista e leggere Virginia Woolf, opto senza esitazione per il primo. Ho sempre avuto il sospetto che il sceneggiatore di Fahrenheit 451 – il film di Truffaut che dipinge una società in cui leggere è illegale e i libri vengono bruciati dai pompieri incendiari – fosse stato da adolescente sottoposto a letture forzate di Al faro.

Chiamatemi pure incolto, ma per me lo scrittore deve innanzitutto fare divertire il lettore. Rispetto pienamente il diritto dei filosofi di farsi orgie di sostantivi astratti – bè, a pensarci bene, forse non pienamente: in realtà, vorrei una legge che vietasse ai filosofi l’uso di più di un sostantivo astratto per paragrafo – ma le cose che amo io in un libro sono story, style e simplicity. Elenco qui sotto alcuni dei miei preferiti.

1) Il giovane Holden – JD Salinger. Libro rivoluzionario. Dall’inizio hai l’impressione che il narratore parla solo con te, e non puoi non ascoltare.
If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you’ll probably want to know is where I was born, and what my lousy childhood was like, and how my parents were occupied and all before they had me, and all that David Copperfield kind of crap, but I don’t feel like going into it, if you want to know the truth.
[Se davvero avete voglia di sentire questa storia, magari vorrete sapere prima di tutto dove sono nato e com’è stata la mia infanzia schifa e che cosa facevano i miei genitori e compagnia bella prima che arrivassi io, e tutte quella baggianate alla David Copperfield, ma a me non mi va proprio di parlarne.]

2) Post Office - Charles Bukowski. Immediato, grezzo, divertente. O lo odi, o lo ami subito.
“Look, Fay,” I said, “I know you want to save the world, but can’t you start in the kitchen.” “Kitchens aren’t important,” she said.

3) Lo strano caso del cane ucciso a mezzanotte – Mark Haddon. Una storia divertente e molto particolare raccontata in modo disarmante da un bambino che soffre di Sindrome di Asperger (una forma di autismo).
The policeman took hold of my arm and lifted me onto my feet.
I didn’t like him touching me like this.
And this is when I hit him.

4) Il lamento di Portnoy – Philip Roth. Racconta i tentativi di un ebreo americano di fuggire dall’oppressione psicologica della madre. Geniale, sconcertante. Fa ridere fino alle lacrime.
On the phone she is perpetually telling whoever isn’t listening on the other end about her biggest fault being that she’s too good. “You know what my biggest fault is, Rose? I hate to say it about myself, but I’m too good.” [...] These are actual words, Doctor, tape-recorded these many years in my brain. And killing me still!

5) Bulli e Pupe – Damon Runyon. Una serie di racconti divertentissimi ambientati a New York nel periodo del proibizionismo. Personaggi coloriti, stile unico.
...I look up and who is in front of me but Rusty Charley. Now if I have any idea Rusty Charley is coming my way, you can go and bet all the coffee in Java I will be somewhere else at once for [...] I wish no part of him. Furthermore, nobody else in this town wishes to have any part of Rusty Charley, for he is a hard guy indeed.

*Ritratto dell’artista da giovane è noioso, Ulisse non finisce mai, e come si fa a raccogliere tutta la droga necessaria per affrontare Finnegan’s Wake (anche il mio professore all’Università di Sheffield, esperto rinomato in materia, ammetteva di non essere mai arrivato alla fine di questo romanzo indecifrabile)? Non farvi ingannare da Gente di Dublino: è stato scritto da mio bisnonno, Jimmy Jarvis, che per modestia, e per paura di mia bisnonna, Savage, non ha mai voluto essere riconosciuto come il vero autore.

Hatha Yoga: Football & Enlightenment

You don’t remember if it was James Joyce, or that bloke who wrote The Making of Ulysses, or just some pisshead down the pub, who insisted that you can’t begin to understand the intricacy of the human soul until you have come to terms with Basic Truth Number 1 – that we are all rooted in our bodies. You do remember that it was your mate Mick Supple who pointed out that most of us are too busy trying to come to terms with Basic Truth Number 2 – that we want to be rooted in someone else’s body – to bother with Basic Truth Number 1.

For some reason this is running through your mind as, kneeling cross-legged before the Om, you try to coax the sole of your reluctant left foot to turn up and face the ceiling. As you look around at your companions breathing serenely and emitting harmonious, rainbow-like auras, it occurs to you that Joyce, or whoever it was, probably made his startling discovery during a yoga class: it is not until a human being establishes through surreally rigorous experimentation whether his limbs are made of rubber or not, that he can really start to comprehend who he is. Gasping, you wonder if everyone experiences what you are experiencing: the blinding light flooding into your consciousness, the dawning realisation that you’re physically fucked.

There is a yang to every yin, of course. In the twinkling of an eye (for the moment, not yours), the excruciating cramps have washed away every trace of the rage that drove you to Hatha in the first place, and, as you lie foetal and exhausted on your mat, you realise that you no longer wish to punch Mark Clattenburg¹. You have attained a state of Enlightenment and it is suddenly crystal clear to you that the wiser way will be to get one of the Tai Chi masters down the corridor to do it for you.


¹Footnote for the Uninitiated: Mark Clattenburg is the liverpool fc supporter who on 20 October 2007 stole a referee’s kit and “officiated” in the match between Everton and liverpool. Experts agree that Clattenburg’s performance was the most biased in the history of Association Football. A close friend of Stephen Gerrard’s, he is hallowed by liverpool fans on account of his having transformed a certain defeat into victory and having saved Dirk Kuyt from prison.