Una vez, cuando viví en el Sur de los EEUU, una muchacha, que luego sería escritora, me invitó a salir. Originalmente íbamos a un bar, pero de repente me llamó para cancelar esa cita original. Había muerto su maestro, y me dijo que si quería, la podía acompañar al funeral de su maestro/escritor, el escritor sureño Barry Hannah. No fui porque no tenía ropa negra y porque, a decir la verdad, me intimidó más que un poco. El fin de semana en cuestión, saqué los libros de Hannah de la biblioteca y leí “Ray” y “Yonder”. Quedé loco con él y me arrepentí de no poder decir que fui al entierro de un gran escritor, aunque—y esto es lo raro—si hubiera ido, jamás lo hubiera leído.
Acá cuelgo unos fragmentos de su entrevista de The Paris Review, la cual me hizo acordarme de él. [y acá un link al pdf de la entrevista].
⇴
INTERVIEWER
What was wrong with
the third-person voice?
HANNAH
In my case, a third
person just led to too much wisdom I hadn't earned. And I like the first
person—just a guy blasting through with the little he knows.
INTERVIEWER
So switching to
third person is a rite of passage?
HANNAH
Third-person
singular, past tense, is most natural and inevitable, I guess. But you'd best
beware the monotone in it and the temptations toward false wisdom, cleverness.
First person is where you can be more interesting as a fool, and I find this
often leads to the more delightful expedition. You don't have to be much but a
stumbling fool. The wisdom there is more precious than in the sage overview,
which in many writers makes me nearly puke. I'm also wary of the glibness that
third person invites.
⇴
HANNAH
I don't think many
of us can tell whole tales until we're older. Usually we don't have enough
time, and our lives are fairly chopped up. Causality and plot have not revealed
themselves yet. Time is what makes good stories. Much has been cooking for a
long time, and at last finds an out in narration one day. That's a supreme joy.
And why the characters keep showing up.
No hay comentarios.:
Publicar un comentario