miércoles, enero 19, 2011

The Catcher in the Rye


Os transcribo a continuación un extracto de un capítulo del libro que estoy leyendo de J.D Salinger, un escritor un poco controvertido y de estos que estan jodidos en la vida. Os lo pongo, porque es un pasaje que me hizo reir en voz alta durante un buen rato mientras leía, y hacía tiempo que no me pasaba esto. Además el día 27 se cumplirá un año desde que murió el autor. Asique si el otro día hicimos una pequeña dedicatoria al gran poeta García Lorca, hoy una pieza clave en la literatura norteamericana, para que luego digamos que los americanos no han dado nada más que guerra y hamburguesas al mundo. (si lo quereis en español, compraros el libro o buscadlo en la biblioteca que seguro que está, es pequeñito y muy facil de leer, pero la clave del libro está en el lenguaje que utiliza, como vereis a continuación, asique merece la pena leerlo en inglés).
P.D: Las cursivas son suyas
P.D2: 'sore' significa irritado o en plan borde

capítulo 12
The cab I had was a real old one that smelled like someone'd just tossed his cookies in it. I always get those vomity kind of cabs if I go anyhwere late atnight. What made it worse, it was so quiet and lonesome out, even though it was Saturday night. I didn't see hardly anybody on the street. Now and then you just saw a man and a girl crossing the street, with there arms around each other's waists and all, or a bunch of hoodlumy-looking guys and their dates, all of them laughing like hyenas at something you could bet wasn't funny. New York's terrible when somebody laughs on the street very late at night. You can hear it for miles. It makes you feel so lonesome and depressed. I kept wishing I could go home and shoot the bull for a while with old Phoebe. But finally, after I was riding a while, the cab driver and I sort of struck up a conversation. His name was Horwitz. He was a much better guy than the other driver I'd had. Anyway, I thought he might know about the ducks.
'Hey, Horwitz,' I said. 'You ever pass by the lagoon in Central Park? Down by Central Park South?'
'The what?'
'The lagoon. That little lake, like, there. Where the ducks are. You know.'
'Yeah, what about it?'
'Well, you know the ducks that swim around in it? In the springtime and all? Do you happen to know where they go in the wintertime, by any chance?'
'Where who goes?'
'The ducks. Do you know, by any chance? I mean does somebody come around in a truck or something and take them away, or do they fly away by themselves - go south or something?'
Old Horwitz turned all the way around and looked at me. He was a very impatient guy. He wasn't a bad guy, though.
'How the hell should I know?' he said. 'How the hell should I know a stupid thing like that?'
'Well, don't get sore about it,' I said. he was sore about it or something.
'Who's sore? Nobody's sore.'
I stopped having a conversation with him, if he was going to get so damn touchy about it. But he started up again himself. He turned all the way around again, and said, 'The fish don't go no place. They stay right where they are, the fish. Right in the goddam lake.'
'The fish - that's different. The fish is different. I'm talking about the ducks,' I said.
'What's different about it? Nothin's different about it,' Horwitz said. Everything he said, he sounded sore about something. 'It's tougher for the fish, the winter and all, than it's for the ducks, for Chrissake. Use your head, for Chrissake.'
I didn't say anything for about a minute. Then I said, 'All right. What do they do, the fish and all, when the whole little lake's a solid block of ice, people skating and all?'
Old Horwitz turned around again. 'What the hellaya mean what do they do?' he yelled at me. 'They stay right where they are, for Chrissake.'
'They can't just ignore the ice. They can't just ignore it.'
'Who's ignoring it? Nobody's ignoring it!' Horwitz said. He got so excited and all, I was afraid he was going to drive the cab right into a lamppost or something. 'They live right in the goddam ice. It's their nature, for Chrissake. They get frozen right in one position for the whole winter.'
'Yeah? What do they eat, then? I mean, they're frozen solid they can't swim around looking for food and all.'
'Their bodies, for Chrissake - what'sa matter with ya? Their bodies take in nutrition and all, right through the goddam seaweed and crap that's in the ice. They got their pores open the whole time. That's their nature, for Chrissake. See what I mean?' He turned the hell around again to look at me.
'Oh,' I said. I let it drop. I was afraid he was going to crack the damn taxi up or something. Besides, he was such a touchy guy, it wasn't any pleasure discussing anything with him. 'Would you care to stop off and have a drink with me somewhere?' I said.
He didn't answer me, though. I guess he was still thinking. I asked him again, though. He was a pretty good guy. Quite amusing and all.
'I ain't got no time for no liquor, bud,' he said. 'How the hell old are you, anyways? Why ain'tcha home in bed?'
'I'm not tired.'
When I got out in front of Ernie's and paid the fare, old Horwitz brought up the fish again. He certainly had it on his mind. 'Listen,' he said. 'If you was a fish, Mother Nature'd take care of you, wouldn't she? Right? You don't think them fish just die when it gets to be winter, do ya?'
'No, but -'
'You're goddam right they don't,' Horwitz said, and drove off like a bat out of hell.

La semana que viene, os pongo el trozo que sigue a esto, que es cuando entra en un bar y también tiene gracia. Ahora mismo ya me he cansado de pasar del libro al ordenador, además me tengo que poner a estudiar. Ala, a cascarla.

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