Un año inglés para olvidar
Como si no bastara la tristeza de la eliminación de Inglaterra para la Eurocopa 2008, además del fracaso de los clubes ingleses en la Premier League, al parecer en literatura este año británico tampoco ha sido notable. Al menos eso es lo que opina David Robson en The Telegraph (vía The Literary Saloon). Definitivamente, un año para el olvido el 2007 inglés.
Dice la nota: "But, generally, 2007 was a scrappy, inconsequential, bits-and-pieces year, of the kind that has book-lovers sobbing into their wine and asking themselves: 'Whither the Novel?' Significantly, the only time real excitement was in the air was when the final Harry Potter book was published and we all held our breaths, waiting to see if Harry would come a cropper in the final furlong. What will younger readers - and their parents - do now that J. K. Rowling has finished her magnum opus? We shall miss Hogwarts, more than we realise. Symptomatic of a genre not in crisis, but most certainly under the weather, was Diary of a Bad Year by the South African heavyweight J.M. Coetzee, an impenetrably bad book, crafted with a tortuousness that was painful to behold. It was like watching Tiger Woods go round in 165 rather than 65. Coetzee, a double Booker-winner, did use to rise above the crowd but, like others, had lost his way. The title felt like a harbinger. Things were a little better across the Atlantic, where the bleakly beautiful Exit Ghost saw Philip Roth still head and shoulders above his contemporaries. Other weighty offerings from stateside included Tree of Smoke by Denis Johnson and The Ministry of Special Cases by Nathan Englander. But even in America, not all was well. Much was expected of Falling Man by Don DeLillo, a big-hitting writer grappling with the leviathan of 9/11, but it did not feel like a major work. And the death of Norman Mailer was a sad reminder of the days when writers, good, bad or indifferent, at least exuded a certain swagger and ambition.