Team Schoreder
[b:Il grande romanzo americano|11089238|Il grande romanzo americano|Philip Roth|https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1409905731s/11089238.jpg|935470]

Per tutta la durata del libro ho cercato di immedesimarmi nel povero traduttore che si è dovuto barcamenare tra improbabili traduzioni, ricerca di come tradurre le figure retoriche, le allitterazioni, le metafore e i giochi di parole presenti in questo libro.
Penso che tradotto perda una buona parte del suo potere e non so se per questo, o anche altro, non mi ha pienamente convinto.
Avevo alte aspettative rispetto a Roth ma penso di essere partita dal libro sbagliato.
Qui viene narrata, da parte di un anziano cronista sportivo, l'improbabile storia di un team di baseball attraverso il periodo di inizio e metà novecento.
La squadra dei Mundys rimane senza campo, affittato all'esercito, e si ritrova così a girovagare per tutta l'Amerca giocando tutte le partite fuori casa. Strani personaggi si alternano sul palcoscenico della notorietà e situazioni ambigue e eccentriche vengono narrate dal cronista.
Il romanzo sembra essere una satira sul mondo di uno degli sport più amati in America ma, a mio parere, non proprio ben riuscita.
In molte parti il libro appare confuso, noioso e un po' stiracchiato... Non mi ha convinto per nulla ma forse letto in inglese (con una buona conoscenza della lingua) è tutta un'altra cosa. ( )

For me the entire story of this book is that it ultimately fails as a satire. While there are certainly jabs at American sports culture and capitalism, it overall comes off as ugly, unfocused and unwilling to stake a declarative stance on much of anything, preferring to couch and coddle any true satirical criticism in borderline unreadable "baseball" writing.

(I also agree with other reviewers on the racist and sexist language, and being unable to entirely untangle that as a satirical element within this text.)

I'm a sports fan and a reader of a fair few postmodern books, but this is a non-starter from me. Flashes of intrigue do not make the 400-odd pages worth it. I understand that Philip Roth is a highly decorated writer, but this is the first book of his I've read and I will not be picking any more of his writing up until I can wash the taste of this out of my mouth. Wish I'd started on reading his works with something better. ( )

I loved this book 30 years ago. Now, not so much. So much ugly misogynism and racism. I'm glad I've grown past my apathy and detachment as it pertains to gross caricatures. What I do love about this book is the better use of language, particularly the orgy of alliteration in the early pages of the book, and the over-the-top satire on baseball. But I just couldn't get past calling women "slits." Call me too PC. I'm OK with that. ( )

At times screamingly funny with a razor-lined sardonic edge, but overwhelmed by, you know, the screaming racism and misogyny that never entirely subsides! You spend a lot of time wondering how much of it is intentional and tongue-in-cheek, especially given Roth's reputation for being an equal opportunity smart-ass without any ties to, you know, the Aryan Brotherhood! But then you reach the part where Mister Fairsmith ventures into the black heart of Africa to spread the gospel of baseball (Really.) and it is basically like watching BIRTH OF A NATION narrated by a cackling David Duke and your eyes roll into the back of your head and you want to go back in time and punch Roth in the throat and/or drop him into Compton and wash your hands of his bullshit.

So, yes, the wondering subsides because, really, when something is that mean and that petty in order to get a laugh? Well, fuck the author's original intentions, because we're reading it NOW, and it reads incredibly ugly, and - basically!- no, Grandma, please don't tell your joke about the five Negroes again.

Also, my affection for the good bits (and they are good! and there are insights! and some of it is achingly great!) tempered by the fact that I couldn't give a rat's ass about baseball. So. Yeah. Mixed feelings? ( )

The Great American Novel is a satire about baseball as not just America's national pastime, but the national religion. Coupled with the paranoia of Communism, Roth paints a ridiculous picture of the panic and frenzy gripping our country fifty years ago.

Sadly, the plot never really comes together for the book (probably partly because of the...dubiousness of its claims, and we're supposed to understand the narrator as addled anyway). The story instead is framed in biographies and anecdotes about the Patriot League's (the *third* baseball league which the Communists destroyed) most memorable players.

There were some amusing parts, and no lack of colorful characters, but other portions of the book just dragggged. I'm not sure it was worth 400 pages and the time I spent on it. ( )