Wednesday, January 8, 2014

Cum a scris Jerome K. Jerome "Three Men in a Boat"

Inafara de un mic sequel iritant la 'Doua Loturi', anul a inceput bine si domol. Printre altele, am dat de-o bijuterie de fragment in Three Men in a Boat, Author's Advertisement. Tocmai din cauza loturilor am avut nevoie sa ma binedispun iar la cartea asta razi la fiecare paragraf, daca umorul britanic cu understatements iti e pe plac.

Serios, chiar e o carte musai de citit si de recitit. E drept ca dupa ce ai parcurs-o de cateva ori sunt fragmente la care doar zambesti larg (familiaritatea toceste, n-ai ce-i face), insa nu e bine nici sa desconsideram anticiparea placerii de a rade citind o carte minunata.

Paragraful acesta picteaza o imagine teribil de frumoasa a unui autor care contempla in liniste lumea, ca pe-o gramada stralucitoare de bijuterii. Si scrie despre ea in linistea noptii pentru ca nu vede o alta intrebuintare mai buna pentru timpul sau. E atata armonie, pace si frumusete in randurile astea incat ma gandesc ca doar in aceste stari combinate ar trebui sa nastem lucruri noi pe lume, orice am crea.

-sursa foto-

Pentru ca imi place rau cum scrie Jerome K. Jerome, o sa iau paragraful mai pe lung. La inceput e si amuzant, nu doar siropos (some would say, mie dulcele imi place peste masura) ;) :

It remains only to explain the merits justifying such an extraordinary success. I am quite unable to do so. I have written books that have appeared to me more clever, books that have appeared to me more humorous. But it is as the author of  Three Men in a Boat (To Say Nothing of the Dog) that the public persists in remembering me. Certain critics used to suggest that it was the vulgarity of the book, its entire absence of humour, that accounted for its success with the people; but one feels by this time that such a suggestion does not solve the riddle. Bad art may succeed for a time and with a limited public; it does not go on extending its circle throughout nearly half a century.

I have come to the conclusion that, be the explanation what it may, I can take credit to myself for having written this book. That is, if I did write it. For really I hardly remember doing so.

I remember only feeling very young and absurdly pleased with myself for reasons that concern only myself. It was summer time, and London is so beautiful in summer. It lay beneath my window a fairy city veiled in golden mist, for I worked in a room high above the chimney-pots; and at night the lights shone far beneath me, so that I looked down as into an Aladdin's cave of jewels. It was during those summer months I wrote this book; it seemed the only thing to do.

Am mai scris si-aici despre Three Men in a Boat, versiunea (foarte bine tradusa) in romana.


Miha said...

Da si la fata, ca s-a albastrit de tot de cand s-a inmultit :P

Dănu said...

Of, mai fata albastra, te imbratisez.