Me acabé The adventures of Augie March después de casi tres meses.
Al héroe le pasa de todo, en especial hay como una temporada de su vida que se va con una chica a México a domar un águila calva para que cace iguanas, las cuales resultan ser muy pero muy fieras, y bueno, la cosa no acaba muy bien por ese lado.
Tiempo después se enlista en la marina mercante en plena segunda guerra y le hunden el barco en el que navega, quedando a la deriva en una balsa con un demente científico que casi se escapa de matarlo...
No sé a quien le recomendaría este libro, creo que si te lo encuentras por tu vida deberías leerlo, así como hace Augie con cada una de las cosas que le pasan, tomárselas como vienen.
Mi parte favorita de todo el libro:
Me, love's servant? I wasn't at all! And suddenly my heart felt ugly, I was sick of myself. I thought that my aim of being simple was just a fraud, that I wasn't a bit goodhearted or affectionate, and I began to wish that Mexico from beyond the walls would come in and kill me and that I would be thrown in the bone dust and twisted, spiky crosses of the cemetery, for the insects and lizards.
Now I had started, and this terrible investigation had to go on. If this was how I was, it was certainly not how I appeared but must be my secret. So if I wanted to please, it was in order to mislead or show everyone, wasn't it now? And this must be because I had an idea everyone was my better and had something I didn't have. But what did people seem to me anyhow, something fantastic? I didn't want to be what they made of me but wanted to please them. Kindly explain! An independent fate and love too - what a confusion!
I must be a monster to make such confusion.
But no, I couldn't be a monster and suffer both. That would be too unjust. I didn't believe it.
It wasn't right to think everyone else had more power of being. Why, look now, it was clear as anything that it wasn't so but merely imagination, exaggerating how you're regarded, misunderstanding how you're liked for what you're not, disliked for what you're not, both from error and laziness. The way must be not to care, but in that case you must know how really to care and understand what's pleasing or displeasing about yourself. But do you think every newcomer is watching? No. And do you care that anyone should care in return? Not by a long shot. Because nobody anyhow can show what he is without a sense of exposure and shame, and can't care while preoccupied with this but must appear better and stronger than anyone else, mad! And meantime feels no real strength in himself, cheats and gets cheated, relies on cheating but believes abnormally in the strength of the strong. All this time nothing genuine is allowed to appear and nobody knows what's real. And that's disfigured, degenerate, dark mankind - mere humanity.
But then with everyone going around so capable and purposeful in his strong handsome case, can you let yourself limp in feeble and poor, some silly creature, laughing and harmless?
No, you have to plot in your heart to come out differently. External life being so mighty, the instruments so hug and terrible, the performances so great, the thoughts so great and threatening, you produce a someone who can exist before it.
You invent a man who can stand before the terrible appearances. This way he can't get justice and he can't give justice, but he can live. And this is what mere humanity always does.
It's made of inventors or artists, millions and millions of them, each in his own way trying to recruit other people to play a supporting role, and sustain him in his make believe.
The great chiefs and leaders recruit the greatest number, and that's what their power is. There's one image that gets out in front to lead the rest and can impose its claim to being genuine with more force than others, or one voice enlarged to thunder is heard above the others. Then a huge invention, which is the invention maybe of the world itself, and of nature, becomes the actual world - with cities, factories, public buildings, railroads, armies, dams, prisons, and movies - becomes the actuality.
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