O luto da NASCAR

Por sugestão de Rogério Casanova, cheguei a este texto brilhante, sem ser mórbido, sobre o impacto da morte de David Foster Wallace. Segundo o The Onion (que está para o Inimigo Público como a The New York Review of Books está para o Jornal de Letras), «shock, grief, and the overwhelming sense of loss that has swept the stock car racing community following the death by apparent suicide of writer David Foster Wallace has moved NASCAR to cancel the remainder of its 2008 season in respect for the acclaimed but troubled author of Infinite Jest, A Supposedly Fun Thing I’ll Never Do Again, and Brief Interviews With Hideous Men». A minha passagem preferida é esta:

«”All race long on Sunday, I was dealing with the unreality presented me by his absence,” said #16 3M Ford Fusion driver Greg Biffle, who won Sunday’s Sylvania 300 at New Hampshire Motor Speedway, the first race in the Chase For The Cup, and would therefore have had the lead in the championship. “I first read Infinite Jest in 1998 when my gas-can man gave me a copy when I was a rookie in the Craftsman Truck Series, and I was immediately struck dumb by the combination of effortlessness and earnestness of his prose. Here was a writer who loved great, sprawling, brilliantly punctuated sentences that spread in a kind of textual kudzu across the page, yet in every phrase you got a sense of his yearning to relate and convey the importance of every least little thing. It’s no exaggeration to say that when I won Rookie of the Year that season it was David Foster Wallace who helped me keep that achievement, and therefore my life, in perspective.”»



Comentários

2 Responses to “O luto da NASCAR”

  1. obscuroobjecto on Setembro 20th, 2008 13:09

    Muito bom. O Inimigo Público é muuito fraquinho, mas é uma maldade compará-lo com o The Onion!!

  2. José Mário Silva on Setembro 20th, 2008 14:45

    Não acho que o Inimigo Público seja fraquinho. Acho que tem dias, é de altos e baixos, oscila. Às vezes é muito bom, outras é vulgar.

«Tenho a suspeita de que a espécie humana - a única - está prestes a extinguir-se e que a Biblioteca perdurará: iluminada, solitária, infinita, perfeitamente imóvel, armada de volumes preciosos, inútil, incorruptível, secreta» Jorge Luis Borges