Μαύρο Γέλιο

by Sherwood Anderson

Dark Laughter (1925) is a novel by Sherwood Anderson. Inspired by his own decision to abandon his family and career in order to establish himself as a professional writer, Anderson explores the guilts, routines, desires, and disappointments driving the lives of many Americans in the early-twentieth century. Although he is known today for his story collection Winesburg, Ohio, a pioneering work of Modernist fiction admired for its plainspoken language and psychological detail, Anderson’s Dark Laughter was his only bestseller. Inspired by the stream of consciousness style of James Joyce’s Ulysses, Anderson produced a novel that remains controversial for its depictions of race, class, and sexuality. >“Bruce Dudley stood near a window that was covered with flecks of paint and through which could be faintly seen, first a pile of empty boxes, then a more or less littered factory yard running down to a steep bluff, and beyond the brown waters of the Ohio River.” Bruce, a factory worker in Old Harbor, Indiana, is your average working man. He lives a simple life, keeps a low profile, spends his money at the bar with his friends, and tries not to get fired. As far as anyone knows, there is nothing special about him whatsoever; he is a drifter who found his way to Old Harbor by chance and settled down to make himself some money. But Bruce was born in Old Harbor; raised on its streets and educated in its schools, he lived most of his life by another name: John Stockton, Indiana native turned Chicago reporter. Married with kids, he was happy as far as anyone could tell. Up until the day he left, he was still John Stockton, but the change that came over him late in life was too great to resist. He needed a new name, a new life. He wanted to start over in the place where he began. When an opportunity comes to work as a gardener for the factory owner’s wife, Bruce soon finds it impossible to resist her brazen advances. Dark Laughter is a tale of guilt, identity, and shame from master storyteller Sherwood Anderson.

Genres: Fiction, Classics, The United States Of America, American, United States, American Fiction, Novels

228 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1925

About the author

Often autobiographical, works of American writer Sherwood Anderson include Winesburg, Ohio (1919).

He supported his family and consequently never finished high school. He successfully managed a paint factory in Elyria before 1912 and fathered three children with the first of his four wives. In 1912, Anderson deserted his family and job.

In early 1913, he moved to Chicago, where he devoted more time to his imagination. He broke with considered materialism and convention to commit to art as a consequently heroic model for youth.

Mainly know for his short stories, most notably the collection Winesburg, Ohio. One can hear its profound influence on fiction in Ernest Miller Hemingway, William Faulkner, Thomas Clayton Wolfe, John Ernst Steinbeck, and Erskine Preston Caldwell.

Most important book collects 22 stories. The stories explore the inhabitants of a fictional version of Clyde, the small farm town, where Anderson lived for twelve early years. These tales made a significant break with the traditional short story. Instead of emphasizing plot and action, Anderson used a simple, precise, unsentimental style to reveal the frustration, loneliness, and longing in the lives of his characters. The narrowness of Midwestern small-town life and their own limitations stunt these characters.

Despite no wholly successful novel, Anderson composed several classic short stories. He influenced Francis Scott Key Fitzgerald and the coming generation.

Reviews

[Greg · Rating 3 out of 5]

Sherwood Anderson, White People and Hipsters


According to the overly pretentious introduction*, Dark Laughter was Sherwood Anderson's big hit. About seven years earlier he had published Winesburg, Ohio but it didn't garner nearly the sales. This is one more drop of proof that the 'public' were no smarter 'back in the day' than they are today. I half considered giving this book two stars, and maybe if it were still in print I would only give it two stars, but instead it's out of print and I rarely see his books in used bookstores so I don't feel like my average star rating will possibly lead anyone to read it thinking, well Greg likes it so I might like it.

I don't like this book!!!

....but it is a better book than most of the books I award with two stars.

Another reviewer mentioned that this book was very racist. Yeah, it is. But the racism is almost amusing. It's like Sherwood Anderson (or just his characters, I mean all of the characters in the book from the enlightened right on down to the coarsest characters, which makes me think that maybe what I'm about to say when I leave this aside aside might be a trait to the author and not just a literary affectation) had never spoken to a black person before in his life. They are a strange breed of people who aren't quite human. Sort of like amoral dogs, or some domesticated farm animal, with opposable thumbs who can speak sometimes and laugh at times, but are basically there to do white folks bidding but never to be trusted to do anything civilized. The one-dimensional treatment of African Americans is further hurt by Anderson's abundant use of the N word (this seems to be the one word I can't drop into my reviews, I wish I could remember the other review where I used this phrasing and Morrissey Brian was helpful in using the word and other objectionable synonyms in the comment section, I'd link to it but I have no idea which review it was for). Or maybe in Indiana this is just the way people roll; dropping N-bombs like Galileo dropped the orange (damn you Brissette for getting that Beastie Boys song stuck in my head today).

Yeah, so the book is a bit objectionable, even by what I imagine 1920's standards might have been. But to be fair the couple of times Jews are mentioned they are drawn in wide brush strokes that could have come out of Hitler's "How to Draw Jews, Kikes and Heebs" pamphlet for kids. But, the unflattering Jew-baiting is thought by one of his coarse characters, one who looks fondly back on his childhood days of chasing a Jew child through the town calling him "Christ-Killer". This is think is still a popular childhood activity in most parts of Indiana.

(Trailer!)In a future review (for Poor White), that may be written when you come across this one, but as off 11:11 on 1/2/11 has yet to be written, I will discuss the similarities between Sherwood Anderson and the anti-semetic uber-capitalist Ayn Rand, a discussion that would fit in this book too, but for now I will tackle the much more pertinent topic of Hipster-dom!(end Trailer!)

HIPSTERS!

Almost everyone in the world agrees about one thing, Hipsters suck. Everyone hates fucking hipsters (except for the butt-wipe who edits Vice magazine, who hearts them but whatever, he made a career glamorizing them and their silly antics). I'd bet a lot of money that even if you asked this guy what he thinks about hipsters he'd say he hates them and without irony he'd tell you he wasn't one.



No one admits to being a hipster (or no one over the age of 21 probably, but I'm making ignorant sweeping generalizations (like that is anything new)). I'd bet even more money that when Karen and I were in Williamsburg today if we asked anyone in the street if they were a hipster they'd say no, and they would also say that they hate all the hipsters even while they strut around looking like Billy William Palace Oldham meets all five dudes from Pavement with an insert cool Brooklyn band here that I'm not cool enough to know about or have idea about because I haven't listened to any new music in about three years. You get my point though, right?

Anyway, I'm not talking about these hipsters. I'm talking about a more meta, or more historically encompassing version of hipster for this review. And to possibly ruffle someone's feathers I'm going to place this man as the godfather of all hipsters:

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That hip motherfucker is Jean-Jacques Rousseau. Check out the hair or hat or whatever that is on his head. I could totally see that on some awesome dude from the midwest strutting his stuff down Bedford Avenue on his way to buy some Pabst or Black Label (and you can almost picture him walking down North Six to his loft and some guy comes up to him and says, "Hey, Jean are you going to see TV on Radio tonight at McCarren Pool?" and he says, "It's Jean-Jacques, and I liked them when they put out their demo CD, everything after that is garbage").

Rousseau might not be the first, but I'm going to use him as the first, to popularize the idea of the Nobel Savage. The basic idea of this is that primitive people are more in touch with something that civilized man has lost. This is the basic thing that hipsters through the ages have all been chasing after. Outsider art, jazz, underground hip-hop, blues anything that cool white people have appropriated from some kind of minority or less civilized people can fall into this basic, wide sweeping and probably slightly (or very) inaccurate description of what a hipster is. They are too cool for the world the society they are born into and to get more 'real', they slum. Be it the annoying ramblings of someone like Jack Kerouac in The Subterraneans, the city born kid who now only listens to obscure folk and country music from the early part of the 20th century, or the guy above wearing his pimp fur coat with his white-trash facial hair. It's romanticizing something you find 'simpler' than the 'complexities' that bog down the 'phony' world that one has been born into. It's glamorizing the Other and looking past all reality to just a mythologized Authenticity.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DqgXzP...

("laugh along with the common people,
laugh along even though they're laughing at you,
and the stupid things that you do.
Because you think that poor is cool.")

At the heart of this book is the same glamorization of the other. The Dark Laughter is the sound of African-American's laughing, it's a primal sound unhindered by the forces of white civilization that has alienated the white folk from nature. It is also the sound of the Ohio River that stands for an earlier time in the country's history when there was a freedom that is now shackled by the conventions of civility and commerce. The dreamy undercurrent to the book is the dream of hipsters everywhere to be able to capture the authenticity of the simpler folk and meld it into the (cosmopolitan?) sophistication of the self who was lucky enough not to have to deal with all the reality hardships that growing up / living impoverished entails. Just like that guy up above most likely would crap his pants if he had to actually live amongst rednecks, he has no problem appropriating the kitschy 'authenticity' of real-folks, he probably thinks he is keeping it real in some way.

Ignoring that guy again, this book is pushing the myth that by idolizing something you're not you can be more 'real'. The books main character is a journalist who walks out on his wife and her literary pretensions to 'find himself'. He does this by going back to his hometown, making up a fake name and getting himself a job at a factory. The fakeness of what he is doing gnaws at him but he never stops looking towards people he isn't and a non-existent past to find himself. He basically becomes a tourist in life. Set against this man who knows more of what he doesn't want than what he wants are people who live in the modern world but who are all portrayed as part of the problem. The factory owner, the people with the literary types who talk more about books than producing anything, the 'artists' living in Paris who spend more time drinking and being seen than doing anything else, these people are all skewered (perhaps rightly so) but the critical awareness never comes that there is no secret in the Other that can be found by just trying to be like them. Instead he turns into a Williamsburg equivalent bumming around pretending to be something he isn't and dressing up in different little outfits and making an ass out of himself, except he isn't portrayed as an ass but as a hero of sorts.

I meant to write more, or be more coherent, but I'm getting tired and if I don't write these silly reviews in one sitting they will never get done.


*This introduction to this book is a perfect example of why people who don't read hate smalmy (thank you OED for giving me this more obscure version of the word smarmy to help illustrate what a douche book readers can be) book nerds who can't say anything without sounding like smug booktards just because they have read some Joyce and Faulkner.

[Susan · Rating 3 out of 5]

Dark Laughterwas a best seller when it was published in 1925. It was innovative in style and ground breaking subject matter: sexual freedom. But it is no longer Sherwood Anderson's best remembered work, which is Winesburg, Ohio Today, it is probably best known for being what prompted Ernest Hemingway to write a highly critical parody of it, The Torrents of Spring. When read alone, Laughter seems like an exercise in meandering time line and character confusion. Expository paragraphs are interspersed with stream of consciousness passages—probably reflective of the influence of James Joyce's Ulysses. Against the advice of his contemporaries, like F. Scott Fitzgerald and Gertrude Stein, Hemingway in Torrents went out of his way to attack Anderson with his obvious parody making fun of his pretentious style and name dropping. Hemingway may have been out of line but I do recommend reading both books for a good picture of what was happening to literature in that time period.

[Mike · Rating 2 out of 5]

A cringe-inducing novel that makes me wonder how this was written by the same man who gave us Winesburg, Ohio. Anderson is clearly under the influence of Joyce--even name-checking the Irish writer throughout the novel--in a baffling attempt to portray multiple perspectives, psychological turmoil, and the "inner journeys" that reflect characters' outer journeys. He even gives us pieces of popular jazz songs, like someone's Dad trying to quote Jay-Z in a desperate attempt to sound hip to the youngsters. The overall result is a mess of a book. The material gets away from Anderson, who struggles to corral the various characters, musings, and settings, while offering the most banal of symbols (rivers and trees and "Negroes"!). You can tell the moments when Anderson thinks he's being "deep." These often turn out to be the most shallow observations of human experience. At one point a character sees a log bobbing in the river and contemplates that we, too, are like logs in the stream. (I could hear in my head the voice of Keanu Reeves from Bill and Ted: "All we are...is dust in the wind, dude.")

It pains me to be so harsh on Anderson, since I loved Winesburg, and I know many young writers like Faulkner and Hemingway turned on him during this period. I went into this reading experience hoping that Dark Laughter would be an unjustly dismissed lost gem, but soon discovered that Hemingway's parody in Torrents of Spring was, sadly, right-on-the-money. In fact, I ended up appreciating Hemingway's novel much more, having read it as a teenager and not understood at all what Hemingway was mocking. In the middle of Dark Laughter, I returned to Torrents and flipped through some passages, and suddenly saw how this brutal satire was made very clear in comparison to Anderson's novel.

[Frabe · Rating 4 out of 5]

Romanzo datato 1925. In sintesi: l'incontro di un uomo già in fuga - dalla moglie, da una vita che non lo soddisfa - e di una donna che pure vorrebbe fuggire - dal marito, da una vita che non la soddisfa; bianchi, osservati da neri assai più disinibiti che se la ridono; alla fine...
Ma non è la trama che colpisce, è lo stile narrativo che, dice il traduttore d'eccezione Cesare Pavese, è "linguaggio, ripensato, ricreato, poesia"; fu anche deriso, Anderson, da due che pure gli dovevano molto all'inizio della carriera: Hemingway e Faulkner. Racconta Fernanda Pivano: “Quando incontrai Ernest Hemingway nel 1948, una delle prime cose che mi disse fu che il problema della sua generazione di scrittori era stato quello di liberarsi dell’influenza di Sherwood Anderson. La stessa cosa mi disse William Faulkner quando lo incontrai a Parigi nel 1952. Entrambi scelsero per liberarsene la forma più crudele, irridendolo con una satira ("Torrents of Spring" l’uno, "Mosquitoes" l’altro) che lo fece soffrire tutta la vita." Un po' d'anni dopo, nei panni del giustiziere, Bukowski disse: “Credo che Sherwood Anderson sia tra i più bravi a giocare con le parole come fossero pietre, o roba da mangiare. Lui dipinge le parole sulla carta. E sono così semplici che si sentono flussi di luce, porte che si aprono, pareti che luccicano. Si vedono tappeti, scarpe e dita. Lui ha le parole. Delizioso. Eppure sono come proiettili. Sanno buttarti giù. Sherwood Anderson ha l’istinto. Hemingway, invece, ce la mette tutta. Infatti nella sua scrittura si sente la fatica. Anderson sa ridere mentre ti dice qualcosa di serio. Hemingway non sa ridere! Uno che si alza alle sei del mattino per scrivere non può avere alcun senso dell’umorismo. Vuole sconfiggere qualche cosa." Philip Roth lo annovera tra gli scrittori più amati: l’ambientazione a Winesburg del suo romanzo "Indignation" (2008) è un omaggio a Anderson e al suo “Winesburg, Ohio” - titolo titolo della versione italiana "Racconti dell'Ohio".

[Spencer · Rating 3 out of 5]

Dark Laughter was a hard book to read. First, because 90+ years after its publication it still remains obscure. It's in few libraries, it's not available as an e-book, it's on few "must read" lists, and the "used" inventory is sparse. The petite 4 X 6 version pictured above was the most readily available version I could find. And secondly, much of it is written in the then new-to-literature manner of "stream of consciousness", which at times was hard to follow. However, the books organization helps navigate the pages, as it's organized into 12 "books" and 40 chapters, though covering only 256 pages. One might think it is a bit pretentious in that regard.

Published in 1925, Dark Laughter is the best selling novel Sherwood Anderson ever wrote, though Winesburg, Ohio received more notoriety. Though commercially successful, it was panned by many critics and other authors, most notably Ernest Hemingway. It is his criticism that has given the book the most fame.

The general public appreciated the treatment of the new found sexual freedom, especially for women. Its treatment of marriage as an out-of-date convention seemed anachronistic for 1925, but perhaps that was its appeal in some circles.

The book explores the alienation that a mid-thirties vagabond newspaper reporter feels as he wrestles with the high pressure demands of the ultra-competitive newspaper industry. Deadlines of multiple daily editions and the pressure to be first amongst competitors was relentless. The protagonist feels that his writing is being compromised because of the playing field, so he has devised a way of reporting without actually writing the news. He simply phones in the four Ws and the H of the story, and lets young "word slingers" compose the article. The story is made more interesting by including women in these occupational roles.

The central character, Bruce Dudley (an alias), decides to "drop out" and pursue a "hands-on" profession that has more honor and satisfaction. He becomes a gardener for a wealthy family.

We discover that this is a world where Bruce sees women as forever alert to a better male prospect than what they currently have. He has noticed this in his mother as well as his ex-wife. Meanwhile, he can't decide whether he needs or even wants women himself. Regardless, neither he nor women in general feel any compunction about leaving their current relationship to pursue another.

Flashbacks reveal the pasts of various characters that explain why they are the way they are today, and how they got there. Along the way there are side trips to Chicago, New Orleans, Paris and Old Harbor, Indiana.

Constantly in the background is the flow of the Ohio River, the rumble of the railroads, and the laughter of the noble savage negroes who populate the serving class, and provide the title to the book. Obviously they have a different perspective on the trials and woes of the white "masters".

Ernest Hemingway took great offense at the favorable reception that Dark Laughter received. It was further compounded by the fact that Anderson had been influenced by James Joyce's Ulysses and emulated some of his style. Hemingway was on a totally different wave length than either of them when it came to the 'rules" of good writing. He wrote a parody of Anderson's novel, The Torrents of Spring: A Romantic Novel in Honor of the Passing of a Great Race, in which he blasted not only Anderson, but also Fitzgerald, John Dos Passos, Ford Maddox Ford, Booth Tarkington, Willa Cather (1923 Pulitzer Prize winner), and Knut Hamsun (1920 Nobel Prize winner). They were all basically criticized for not writing the way he did—they used too much detail. It was the opinion of many that Hemingway was way out of line, but it was his criticism that was instrumental in facilitating his move to Scribners in 1926, where he would remain until his death.

[Peter Lehu · Rating 4 out of 5]

The ending disappoints, but all in all this is a remarkable novel. Great, sparse, Hemingwayesque use of language. Great character studies, especially the secondary characters like Sponge and the Parisian set. Aline is a very interesting character too, while Bruce remains confused about his identity throughout and we also don't get a good sense of who he is. Some of the Joycean agrammatical sections work while others are undecipherable and seem gratuitous. The party scenes in Paris are well-presented, particularly the fascinating parallels between the men being abused and scarred by WWI and the women being abused and scarred by the men at these sex parties. Too bad we get no hint of Bruce and Aline's future in the end, and that their voices are silenced and instead we get pathetic Fred who is well described but one-dimensional. One last point: interesting how to Aline, Bruce is a handsome savior figure, but to himself he is confused and aimless. She may end up being disappointed again.

[Carl R. · Rating 2 out of 5]

I was led to read Sherwood Anderson's Dark Laughter by its mention in The Wettest County In America, which posited him as an investigative reporter developing a story on the crimes depicted in that book. The novel was his only best-seller, and I can only guess why. I suppose in 1925, the sex and race themes might have appeared rather racy.

Bruce Dudley has left his wife, walked out on a journalism gig at a major Chicago newspaper because he thinks he's meant for better things. He's even changed his name to signify his new life. After a trip down the big rivers--Ohio and Mississippi--and a sojourn in New Orleans, he's used up his nest egg. So what does this new-born spirit do but return to his old small home town on the banks of the Ohio and move into the very rooming house where he lived with his parents. He gets a job painting automobile wheels, working beside a man with one of the great names in all of literature--Sponge Martin.

So, you see that even though Bruce is our protagonist, he's all think and no do. A writer who never puts a word on paper, and we readers are condemned to swimming around in his unexpressed mind while Anderson indulges in Joycean/Whitmanesque prosody:

The whole Middle American empire--swept by frequent and delicious rains, great forests, prairies on which early spring flowers grow like a carpet--land of many rivers running down to the slow strong mother of rivers, land to live in make love in, dance in. Once the Indians danced there, made feasts there. They threw poems about like seeds on a wind. Names of rivers, names of towns. Ohio! Illinois! Keokuk! Chicago! Illinois! Michigan!

But don't worry, Bruce is not really our protagonist after all. We suddenly switch over to Aline, the wife of the owner of the automobile wheel factory. We're treated to page after page of her back story, which includes an interlude in Paris, an invitation to a lesbian affair, which she declines but somewhat regrets passing on the opportunity. It's in Paris after WWI where she meets her husband and decides to settle for becoming the wife of a rich and prominent small-town factory owner. She's leading a pretty empty life till she spots Bruce coming out of the factory after work when she's driven down to pick up her husband.

Thus commences an almost Chaucerian courtly love romance, the kind with small gestures and slow and irritating advancement. It's obvious what's going to happen, so we feel no suspense or dramatic tension at all. And, of course, we're not privileged to be present at the moment it happens. Instead, we meet Aline the morning after as she says to herself "It happened." Not only are we not present at the consummation, but there is no scene whatsoever between Bruce and Aline. We never hear another word out of his mouth. Not even when they walk away together, she pregnant with his child, leaving her poor husband desolate.

And, the final insult--we are left in the end with that same husband. A character we scarcely know, but whom we have been led to dislike and even detest. A weak man who knew of his wife's affair but did nothing about it.

I admit to skimming large portions of Dark Laughter once I became irritated at how long it was taking Anderson to get Bruce and Aline together. Believe me, I'm not sorry I did. Nice to meet you, Sherwood, but I think I'll just move on down the line, now.

[TAB · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is a strange fucking book. Bigoted? Most likely. Repetitive? Most definitely. Strangely endearing? Somehow absolutely.

The only reason I decided to read this book is that I've had the Torrents of Spring on my shelf for ages and it is presumably a satire of this book. I am old enough now to realize what a self-aggrandizing asshole Hemingway was, so I figured giving Sherwood a read first felt appropriate.

Even though the author or characters or whomever repeat their thoughts over and over, the device somehow serves a purpose to propel me deeper into the darkness of the river deep. It's quite easy given the exaggerated and needless use of "nigger" throughout this novel to read the darkness as a fear or misunderstanding of The Other, but to me the darkness or the laughter thereof is that of the night and mighty rivers: Mississippi, Chicago, Ohio, Seine. I've never read Ulysses so I can't comment on the similarity to that, but there is definitely a post-war malaise that is common to other novels (Moviegoer, Razors Edge, all Hemingway) or other art (Bruce smiling at his wife in their apartment is basically an Edward Hopper painting) that permeates this story. The novel is floating down a river with only its memories and thoughts but when it looks behind or ahead of it, all it sees is darkness and all it hears is laughter.

[Michelangelo Carrieri · Rating 3 out of 5]

"Riso Nero" dopo tanti decenni è stato ripubblicato, con una nuova traduzione, l'originale era del 1932 di Cesare Pavese, ed una nuova edizione, di meravigliosa qualità, grazie a Cliquot.

Il romanzo, ambientato nel 1925, anno di pubblicazione, racconta due storie di libertà, di perdita d'innocenza (una più dell'altra), di fuga dalle convenzioni sociali. Due anime, un uomo ed una donna, insoddisfatti della propria vita, nella quale si trovano poiché si sono lasciati trascinare dagli eventi, decidono di cambiare la propria situazione. Le due narrazioni s'incontreranno dopo un lungo viaggio tra punti di vista e città diverse.

Uno dei punti di forza più interessanti di questo libro è la visione dettagliata, che offre, di quella che doveva essere la vita e la società degli anni '20 americani. Nel bene e nel male, ci viene descritta la disparità sociale, la normalità del sessismo e del razzismo.

Stilisticamente, tutto il romanzo è un continuo flusso di coscienza delle parti che descrivono ciò che accade accompagnato anche dai loro pensieri, i loro ricordi, i loro sogni e le pressioni sociali alle quali sono esposti. Questo rende la narrazione, in alcuni punti, soprattutto a metà libro, confusa e difficile da seguire.

È un romanzo impegnativo che richiede tempo, dedizione e riflessione. Ma alla fine ci riporta all'ineluttabile realtà dei fatti. A prescindere dall'epoca o da qualsiasi altra discriminante abbiamo sogni, paure, gioie, dolori e commettiamo, a volte, sbagli che possono ripercuotersi anche su chi ci circonda: siamo umani.

[Fede La Lettrice · Rating 3 out of 5]

• Riso Nero è sorprendentemente fluido e talora lirico, con momenti di forte sensualità ma è anche un romanzo discontinuo, oscillante tra il pamphlet filosofico, il romanzo di formazione e la narrazione impressionista.

• Anderson cerca di trasmettere il fermento spirituale e culturale dell’epoca, ma senza mai abbracciarlo davvero con convinzione: c’è in lui sempre una tensione tra istinto e riflessione, tra carne e pensiero, tra fuga e nostalgia.

• Un esperimento a tratti ingenuo e paternalista nella rappresentazione dell’alterità, ma anche un documento prezioso del suo tempo

• Un libro vivo, sincero, attraversato da un desiderio autentico di contatto umano e da una malinconica consapevolezza dell’alienazione moderna.

• È un romanzo imperfetto ma affascinante, più interessante per le sue intenzioni e il suo contesto che per la sua realizzazione formale.

[GG · Rating 4 out of 5]

"Il realismo nella scrittura elevato bruscamente a qualcosa di vivo e bruciante come una ferita infetta. Altri che vengono a guardare le ferite" (p. 97).

Il riso nero dice la verità (quella prospetticamente situata: quale altra, sennò?), per quanto scomoda e irrapresentabile, a sé stessi e agli altri (anche fossero lettrici e lettori): un mettere a nudo pensieri nefandi, giudizi deprecabili, desideri erranti. Se non lo fa la letteratura, in questo caso un maestro di molti, non so davvero cosa potrebbe farlo.

[Kostas Kanellopoulos · Rating 1 out of 5]

Μαύρο χ��λι

[Barry · Rating 1 out of 5]

Racist, inept, dull. I gave up.

[ᯓ★raquel · Rating 5 out of 5]

Leí este libro por la relación del autor con Ernest Hemingway, no sabía nada de él y fue una agradable sorpresa. Me pareció que estaba escrito de manera brillante con una gran comprensión de las diversas formas en que hombres y mujeres interactúan y se relacionan entre sí.

Divertido, triste y apasionante. Está atrapado en su tiempo en algunos aspectos y, sin embargo, es completamente relevante para hoy en día en otros. Disfrut�� muchísimo de este libro y siempre lo recomiendo.

[Dustincecil · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5 stars.

I liked the story alright, a cheating tale in the 20s! but some of the stream-of-consciousness styled portions bordered on being unreadable (for me). This could have been a 5 star short story with some serious(!) editing. It has been interesting to see some of the major themes that Anderson was grappling with through his writing up to this point. Other Anderson work has said a lot more with a lot less words...

[Ken Wilsher · Rating 2 out of 5]

Disappointing book. So long and slow. Perhaps it pushed the limits and was titillating and engaging in the 1920's but now seems just odd and long-winded. He wrote well about men and women here and in Winesburg Ohio which is far better. The short story form suited him.

[Chiara CiPi · Rating 1 out of 5]

Not my cup of tea.

[JL Salty · Rating 1 out of 5]

Rating: pg - sexual situations, profanity, racism (n* word SO MUCH)
recommend: "classics" readers

I'm going to borrow from a couple of summary sites for this one.
https://www.themodernnovel.org/americ...
So much became clear when I read this line: "...there is one other key factor in this work and that is that Anderson had read James Joyce before writing it." followed by this: "Borrowing from Joyce, though not always well, he jumps from character to character, using a stream of consciousness technique, and also intervenes himself, with his own commentary on what is going on. Sometimes it work and sometimes it doesn’t."
Indeed. And as I think of "As I Lay Dying"... yep. Similarities and Joyce definitely did it better.
and I despise stream of consciousness writing. Hate. It.

This summary makes it sound like there was some action in this novel.
https://www.supersummary.com/dark-lau...
There wasn't. Nothing happens. All the way through. Even when SOMETHING HAPPENS, it's so vague and undefined that you are left wondering... until Arline is pregnant. Oh! THAT's what happened.
good grief.
And was there an orgy scene in the middle? the party in Paris? It would appear so, but again... so vague.
And so many n* words, and SUCH an annoying view of women. I understand the historical context and all that, but I'm definitely using my modern eyes and heart to judge this one, #sorrynotsorry.

It WAS interesting to read that Hemingway was a protégé of Anderson, but "...in his novella, The Torrents of Spring, ... Hemingway parodied the self-seriousness of the novel."
yeah. deservedly.

[Pitichi · Rating 5 out of 5]

Anche l'occhio vuole la sua parte e l'edizione Cliquot è davvero superba. Ma la vera meraviglia è il testo, ritradotto da una sublime Marina Pirulli. Sherwood Anderson racconta una storia o meglio più storie intrecciate, che si incrociano e deviano la loro direzione: prima di tutto c'è il pubblicitario John Stockton, ma ce lo dimentichiamo presto, perché abbandona la vita monotona di città e ricomincia da capo, con il nome di Bruce Dudley, lasciandosi trasportare dal fiume Mississippi, fino ad arrivare a Old Harbour, in Ohio. Libertà, voglia di avventura, destino. E lì incrocia le strade di Sponge, Frand e Aline, tre individui diversi, tre modi di affrontare la vita e sconfiggere la solitudine. L'arrivo di Bruce è la scintilla che innesca l'azione, il cambiamento. E nulla sarà mai più come prima.
Un romanzo come ne ho letti pochi, una perturbazione di pensieri e punti di vista capace di emozionare davvero.
Il libro giusto con cui concludere il mio 2023.

[Joy · Rating 4 out of 5]

CHAPTER ONE: Sherwood has an amazing way of making white trash look desirable. It's probably why I like him so much.

CHAPTER TWO: Prior to reading this chapter ... had read a review where someone stated it was a racist book ... it's probably because of some of the wording in this chapter ... however, you have to read this as if you are in the era it is being written where racism wasn't even a word yet ... it was just how thing were. However, you can plainly see, if you so choose, that Anderson is not a racist or he could not write a line such as: "If you ain’t never been loved by a brown skin you ain’t never been loved at all." This is a great chapter to begin seeing the demise of America through the justified cause called "progress."

[Christina Laflamme · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book is an interesting read based on the fact that it is from a totally different era (for example, the casual and consistent use of the ''n'' word and the racist comments made about black people). It was interesting how the book was first told from one character's perspective, then another's, then another's, and so on. Although this book is supposed to ''deal with the new sexual freedom of the 1920's'' (and it does) I also found it was a statement about how love and self-fulfillment are worth more than money and the status quo, as seen by both John Stockton (Bruce Dudley) leaving his comfortable, conservative and socially-normal life for freedom and true love and Aline doing the same. I liked it. Ernest Hemingway did not. Perhaps he was jealous!

[Dan Bimrose · Rating 2 out of 5]

Read this as a precursor to Hemingway’s The Torrents of Spring. This book meanders often leaving me wishing he would just get on with the story. It is undoubtedly racist at times towards African Americans and those of the Jewish persuasion. Telling myself it was a different age didn’t make the negative portrayal of African Americans any easier to swallow. A story about broken marriages, marital infidelity and “sexual freedom” probably made it a page turner for the mid twenties and is likely one of the reasons that it was his bestselling novel. Still though, glad I discovered this author and this book through trying to work through all of Hemingway’s novels. Looking forward to starting the Torrents of Spring to see how EH satirized this work.

[Batisse · Rating 3 out of 5]

Imam neobjašnjivu naklonost spram američke književnosti prve polovice 20. stoljeća. Naklonost toliko veliku da knjizi dajem ocjenu 3/5 usprkos očiglednim rasističkim komentarima protagonista-naratora. Crnci se pišu velikim slovom. Zna se kakav je crnački smijeh i koja je razlika imati bijelca ili Crnca za vrtlara. Bijelac bi ti se mogao spetljati sa ženom, zavesti je i oteti, ali Crnac ne dolazi u obzir. On samo kopa. Na kraju knjige bijelac se doista i spetlja sa ženom - Bruce Dudley i Alina Grey, a Crnkinje, saznavši to, smiju se prodornim smijehom iz vrta i viču "Samo smo čekale! Znale smo!". Priča o putu do preljuba i spontanom raspadu pristojnog i nestrastvenog braka.

[Francesca Colombo · Rating 5 out of 5]

È il primo libro di questo scrittore che leggo e mi ha fatto venire voglia di recuperarne altri. È stato molto bello perché ho ritrovato dei ragionamenti che ho fatto anche io e soprattutto delle situazioni che sia io che il personaggio principale abbiamo vissuto quasi “contemporaneamente”. Ho apprezzato molto anche la scrittura, mi ha ricordato molto quella poetica in più punti. Ho perso un po’ la connessione con il libro quando è passato a descrivere meglio la donna, però nel finale si è ripreso molto

[Ο σιδεράς · Rating 3 out of 5]

Δεν μπορώ ν αποφασίσω τι ένοιωσα, θα χρειαστώ τη βοήθεια του κοινού κύριε Γρηγόρη μου.. δεν αποκλείεται να το ξεθάψω απ' τη σκόνη όπου ξεκουράζεται, μαζί με τα λοιπά αναγνωστικά ναυάγια.. αλλά όχι σύντομα, Σεργουντ.. Σέργουντ; δάσος δεν ήταν αυτό, έξ απ το Νόριτς; Σιδερά, πάνε φτιάξε κανά αρτιφάκτο να ξελαμπικάρεις, κι ας τη κλάψα, καημένε μου..

[Terra · Rating 4 out of 5]

Di tutti gli scrittori accostati a Sherwood Anderson nella prefazione, mi mancava solo lui: gli altri - Fitzgerald, Faulkner, Hemingway e compagni - li ho assaggiati tutti. Anderson non è quello che ho amato di più, anche se più leggevo e più mi piaceva. Arrivata alla fine, ho pensato che a me ricordava anche Steinbeck (che amo moltissimo).

[Tammy Downing · Rating 3 out of 5]

A rather convoluted story with a lot of racial slurs in it. I really didn't care for it.

[Wendy · Rating 4 out of 5]

I have read a few of Sherwood Anderson's other works and enjoyed them all. This was no exception.
This one came to me via Hemingway. I was finishing up reading Hemingway and found one last one called The Torrents of Spring that he wrote as a parody of Anderson's Dark Laughter. They shared the same publisher at the time and Hemingway was trying to break his contract to move to Scribner to publish The Sun Also Rises. They wouldn't release him as his contract called for them to publish his next book. At the time Anderson was their biggest name author so to force their hand he wrote his "next" book as a parody of the just published Dark Laughter which he knew they would not publish and would therefore force them to break his contract. So he went to Scribners who did publish it as well as The Sun Also Rises.
So naturally I had to return to Anderson for this book before I could read it's parody.

[chiara_librofilia · Rating 4 out of 5]

Quella narrata da Sherwood Anderson, in Riso nero, oltre ad essere una storia incentrata sulla libertà e pure la storia di John Stockton – alter ego dello stesso autore – un uomo che lascia la città di Chicago, il mestiere di giornalista e sua moglie, per andare alla ricerca della libertà e così, giunge a Old Harbor – piccola cittadina nella quale abitava da ragazzino –, diventa operaio in una fabbrica di ruote, cambia il nome in Bruce Dudley e infine, si innamora di una donna che è anche essa in fuga da diverse cose e così insieme, finiscono per distruggere tutto quello che li ha circondati sino a quel momento, semplicemente per tuffarsi in ciò che il destino a riservato loro e poco importa se sarà tutto buio e incerto.

Recensione completa: http://www.librofilia.it/riso-nero-di...

Video-recensione: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d3HeV...

[Kristen · Rating 4 out of 5]

Anderson imitates Faulkner (and does it better), writing about a young newspaper reporter who chucks it all. Then there's the wife of the town tycoon who is vaguely dissatisfied, can't put her finger on what's wrong with her. Maybe you can see where this is going. Still, no cow patties in this book.

Dark Laughter was Anderson's best seller, though the critics liked his Winesburg Ohio best. I've liked everything I read by Anderson. I like visiting his slower era, but I wouldn't want to live there, unless they had GPSes and blow dryers and pizza that Anderson forgot to mention.