Friedrich Dürrenmatt: Fiziki

Obvezno čtivo za srednješolsko maturo, ki jo med drugi dela tudi moj brat. Čisto sranje.

Gunter Grass: Pločevinasti boben

Kate Land me je pred kratkim opomnila, da moj blog vsebuje skoraj povsem zgolj recenzije piv, čeprav so knjige nekako prominentno v naslovu. Glavni razlog je, da sem zadnje dva meseca žulil Pločevinasti boben Gunterja Grassa, to je 608 strani bobnanja. Težko priznam, ampak na splošno sem ljubitelj dolgih knjig, ker te poskrajo vase tako močno kot te sto-stranske knjige nikoli ne. V osnovi gre za magični realizem, ampak to ni tipična južno-ameriška sorta z družinskim sagami, ki se vlečejo nekaj generacij, temveč življenje Oskarja Mazeratha od rojstva do njegovega tridesetega rojstnega dne. Oskar se pri treh letih odloči, da noče vstopiti v svet odraslega življenja in se zato vrže po stopnicah in od takrat ne raste več, temveč samo še bobna in se dela malo neumnega. Pri 23 (?) letih se odloči, da ima tega dovolj in vrže boben v grob svojega očeta, vstopi v svet odraslih, zraste iz 94cm na 123cm in služi denar z različnimi priložnostnimi deli. Na koncu pristane v bolnišnici za duševno bolne, čeprav pravzaprav ni nor. Vsa ta zgodba naj bi bila nekakša metafora za vse nemško kolobocijo, travmo z nacizmom (sam Gunter Grass je bil član Waffen-SS, kar je priznal šele pred kratkim) ampak najbolj zanimivo pri vsem je, da ni očino točno kako naj bi ta prispodoba delovala. Tako se knjiga utaplja v eni težko oprijemljivi metaforiki, ampak je, ko se enkrat zažene, zelo berljiva, tako kot pač skoraj ves magični realizem. Prevod je odličen (Janko Moder, kdo pa drugi).

Special Flagøl

Ordered "Special Flagøl" in a Danish restaurant. Got a dark, drinkable beer on tap. Can't really tell anything else...

Boddingtons

My everlasting crusade to save money made me travel from Oxford to Paris by bus. It was one of the more idiotic ideas of mine. At 3 am, after boarding a ferry at Dover and after talking to immigrants for 2 hours while waiting for the ferry (which was good fun, actually), I had a half-pint of Boddies. This is a famous cheapo British bitter that I used to drink with Alan in Locomotive, a den full of fighty locals on Mill Road in Cambridge. It immediately brought back memories and is a beer perfect for such occasions, bitter, creamy, dense with no subtleties whatsoever. I never realised quite how much I like it!

Fuller's Summer Ale

There are one billion beers called Summer Ale. This is Fuller's version; had two pints in Royal Oak while discussing who might get the latest physics appointment in Oxford (Joanna Dunkley did!). Light, easy beer perfect for musing over job market...

Ale Fresco

by Greene King. This is a terrible, terrible pun. Beer is not much either...

Abbot Ale

Today I went to the James Street Tavern to watch England vs Brazil. I had a pint of Abbot and you know what: it tasted so bad that I reverted to Fosters Extra Cold after it. Can you imagine? Was I just so drunk, was the beer off (didn't taste like it), or is Abbot, the Greene's King flagship beer, really a bit shit? Need to try again in a more sober state!