Why, in America especially, are the production of literature and the
consumption of destructive quantities of alcohol so intimately
intertwined? Which came first, the bottle or the typewriter? While this
condition has abated quite a bit in our more abstemious time (it’s been
many years since I’ve seen anyone come back loaded from a publishing
lunch), for much of the twentieth century, literary distinction and
alcoholism were strongly linked. An oft-cited fact is that five of the
first six American Nobel Prize winners—Lewis, O’Neill, Faulkner,
Hemingway, and Steinbeck—were alcoholics, and the list of other notable
writers who suffered from the disease would more or less fill the
allotted word count of this review. Laing, a British editor and critic,
battens on to six of these sad, brilliant cases, all men, in an attempt
to solve, or at least shed light on, the paradox that their desolate and
haunted lives yielded “some of the most beautiful writing this world
has ever seen.” Tennessee Williams, John Cheever, Raymond Carver, Ernest
Hemingway, F. Scott Fitzgerald, John Berryman—ransacked souls all who
drank like fish and wrote like fallen angels. Gerald Howard su bookforum.
Il libro citato è: Olivia Laing, The Trip to Echo Spring: Why Writers Drink (Canongate).
Il libro citato è: Olivia Laing, The Trip to Echo Spring: Why Writers Drink (Canongate).
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