24 iunie 2012

God hates us all, Hank Moody

Imi place Californication. E scris inteligent, jucat impecabil si reflecta exact imaginea pe care ne-au servit-o de-a lungul timpului americanii: sex, drugs and rock-n-roll. Sau o combinatie toxica de vulgaritate, istetime si probleme mentale. Desigur ca e o imagine distorsionata. Statele sunt mult mai banale decat le prezinta media. Revenind insa la Californication trebuie sa admit ca imi place personajul Hank Moody. Imi place atat de tare incat atunci cand ma gandesc la David Duchovny nici macar nu-l mai asociez cu agentul Mulder. Imaginea aia e din era VHS... Acum, in era digitala, nu mai vizualizez decat scriitorul. Si pentru ca-mi place atat de mult i-am citit si cartea atribuita in biografia inceputului de serial (God hates us all), carte care bineinteles ca nu e scrisa de Moody (personaj fictiv), nici de Duchovny (he’s a fucking actor, and a good one) nici macar de Tom Kapinos, creatorul serialului si, implicit, al personajului, ci de un ghost writer angajat pentru chestia asta pe nume Jonathan Grotenstein.

Chiar daca e doar o miscare de marketing - destul de inspirata, dealtfel - asta nu inseamna ca romanul de 200 de pagini e lipsit de reale calitati. Daca i se poate reprosa ceva ar fi ca-i prea scurt. N-are legatura cu Moody ci e o poveste despre maturizare setata prin anii 80 in New York. Personajul e un tanar de 21 de ani care si-a abandonat studiile ca sa lucreze intr-un restaurant iar apoi intr-un mod accidental ajunge traficant marunt de iarba in slujba unui distribuitor pe nume Pontiful. Prin urmare cunoaste oameni noi - afaceristi, vedete rock, fotomodele, etc - si are parte de cateva experiente ‘interesante’. Adaugate la bagajul deja acumulat (un tata demn de dispret, o mama suferinda si o iubita psihotica si piromana) toate astea il conduc spre un fel de revelatie personala. Cum era de asteptat, cartea e scrisa in acelasi stil succint si istet in care e conturat si Moody, dar atmosfera e ceva mai cinica chiar daca sexul sau drogurile nu lipsesc. Cateva fraze cheie care mi-au placut:

If you're anything like me, the idea of being surrounded by supermodels might be something you’ve dreamed about. If you’re the kind of person who likes your dreams intact—i.e., free of puncture holes—you probably don’t want to read what’s next: The experience is overrated. 

I’m not saying the models are overrated. Anything but. You might wonder if up close they’re just regular gals with decent bone structure and expert hair and makeup artists. They aren’t. They’re perfect, or close enough.

And it’s not that they’re stupid, or insecure, or vain, even though some of them are. Maybe most of them. But beauty forgives intellectual shortcomings. No, what’s overrated is the experience of meeting a supermodel. Because deep down, you’re hoping that you and she will fall in love. Or lust. Or just find something to talk about for more than thirty seconds. But you won’t. 

Supermodels are like professional athletes or violin prodigies: brilliant but limited in worldview. Maybe you’re the kind of guy who knows a lot about strappy shoes or applying foundation. But if you’re dreaming about bedding supermodels, you’re probably not that guy. You tell yourself that you can overlook this lack of connection. And you’re right. You can. But she can’t. Women are all about connection. Or connections. And unless you can bring at least one of those to the table, you might as well be speaking Martian.

Despite our reputation for insensitivity and emotional retardation, we men have a surprisingly rich nonverbal vocabulary. Especially when there’s a lady present. 

K. emerges from the bedroom in a robe. Her eyes plead for forgiveness. Everything else about her screams freshly fucked.

When it comes to emotions, women know how to paint with the full set of oils, while men are busy doodling with crayons.

“You know why love stories have happy endings?” I shake my head. “Because they end too early,” she continues. “They always end right at the kiss. You never have to see all the bullshit that comes later. You know, life.”

Cartea se gaseste in format electornic prin diverse surse :).

3 comentarii:

  1. Nu pot sa nu spun ca Dumnezeu nu ajunge sa ne urasca, doar toti spunem "L-am maniat pe Dumnezeu" deasta e vremea asta.

  2. Stii unde pot gasi de cumparat cartea in romana? am tot cautat pe net si nu gasesc pe nicaieri

    1. Nu este publicata in Romania. Eu am gasit-o doar e-book in engleza.