sobota, 11. november 2017

Paul Auster: 4 3 2 1

Brez zamere, ampak tokrat sem kraljevsko brcnil mimo.

Težko je, tole moje življenje. V zraku je visela podelitev bookerjev, bil sem na dvestoti strani Austerja, odprte sem imel vse bralne čakre, lebdel sem v pripovedi in bil prepričan, da sem našel zmagovalca. 680 strani pred koncem. Kakšen samovšečen osel.

4 3 2 1 je zgodba o življenjih, ki bi lahko bila, če bi bila. Štiri možna življenja Archieja Fergusona, prikladno označena s številkami poglavij, recimo 4.1, 4.2 in tako naprej. Kar na začetku sploh ni jasno in sem - enako kot Blake Morrison v Guardianu - buljil kot kapelj ob možu tete Mildred, ki se nikoli ni poročila. Sedaj veste in tega ne obžalujem.

Bralec, ki bi rad odtekel nekaj kratkih sprintov ob zgodbi, se bo hitro upehal. Stavki so spektakularni:
"Lew and Millie had a taste for alcohol. They were one of those couples who drank as both a sport and a compulsion, a bibulous, insouciant pair of theatrical charmers whenever they were lubricated within the scope of their capacities, which were substantial, but oddly enough it was the pin-thin Millie who seemed the steadier of the two, who rarely ever wobbled or slurred, whereas her much larger husband sometimes went overboard, and even before Andrew’s death, Ferguson could remember the time when he saw his uncle passed out on the couch and snoring in the middle of a loud family party, which everyone had found so funny when it happened, but now, in the aftermath of that death, Lew’s drinking had increased, spreading beyond the parties, the cocktail hours, and the post-dinner nightcaps into high-noon lunchtime sloshes and secret tipples from the flask he carried around in the inside pocket of his jacket, which no doubt helped numb the pain twisting through his guilt-ridden, ravaged heart, but the booze began to affect his work at the store, sometimes rendering him incoherent when he talked to customers about the relative merits of Whirlpool and Maytag washing machines, and when he wasn’t incoherent, he was occasionally irritable, and when he was irritable, he often took pleasure in insulting people, which was no way to conduct business at 3 Brothers Home World, and so Ferguson’s father would have to step in, pull Lew away from the offended customer, and tell him to go home and sleep it off."
Spektakularni, a sploh ne predolgi. Počasna pripoved, počasna v smislu zenovskega polža, ki nima ne atletskih predispozicij, ne ambicij, ne želje in skoraj tudi ne cilja (o tem kasneje). Zgodba se deloma napaja tudi iz globoke erotične energije, s katero se Ferguson igra v dokaj široki, a ne popolni paleti.

In zakaj si Auster ne zasluži bookerja? Prvič, ker je Lincoln in the Bardo - četudi mi ni bil všeč - strukturno daleč bolj nor. Drugič, ker 4 3 2 1 še zdaleč ne izkoristi možnosti, ki jih ponujajo različna Fergusonova življenja. Vse se vrti okoli Amy pa ne-Amy, izletov v pisateljske dileme in političnih dogodkov, ki so zaznamovali šestdeseta leta v ZDA. Tretjič, ker se roman pri političnem aktivizmu popolnoma zaustavi in pogine. Da sem se preglodal do konca, mi je pomagala samo še surova zgornjesavinjska trma. Do konca, ki je - četrtič - podcenjevalen, žaljiv in podel. Austerju tega ne bom pozabil.

Ne, 4 3 2 1 ni moj zmagovalec bookerja 2017.

To je Ali Smith. Zagotovo. Po triindvajsetih straneh se ne morem motiti, kajne?