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In Watermelon Sugar
iDEATH is a place where the sun shines a different colour every day and where people travel to the length of their dreams. Rejecting the violence and hate of the old gang at the Forgotten Works, they lead gentle lives in watermelon sugar. In this book, Richard Brautigan discovers and expresses the mood of the counterculture generation.
142 pages, Paperback
First published June 14, 1968
About the author
Richard Brautigan
140 books2,061 followersRichard Brautigan was an American novelist, poet, and short-story writer. Born in Tacoma, Washington, he moved to San Francisco in the 1950s and began publishing poetry in 1957. He started writing novels in 1961 and is probably best known for his early work Trout Fishing in America. He died of a self-inflicted gunshot wound in 1984.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 2,550 reviews
April 6, 2024
In Watermelon Sugar is a flower children’s rhapsody…
In the hippie world life obeys its own hip laws. And those who live in a watermelon fairy tale are lucky because watermelon sugar is a universal stuff that can serve all purposes in life and satisfy any far-out wishes…
There’s no need to bother for food either…
And it is indispensable in rites…
Watermelon sugar is the alchemical substance saturated with poetry in its pure essential form.
In the hippie world life obeys its own hip laws. And those who live in a watermelon fairy tale are lucky because watermelon sugar is a universal stuff that can serve all purposes in life and satisfy any far-out wishes…
I once had a dream about the aqueduct being a musical instrument filled with water and bells hanging by small watermelon chains right at the top of the water and the water making the bells ring.
There’s no need to bother for food either…
Al cooked up a mess of carrots again. He broiled them with mushrooms and a sauce made from watermelon sugar and spices. There was hot bread fresh from the oven and sweet butter and glasses of ice-cold milk.
And it is indispensable in rites…
Margaret was dressed in death robes made from watermelon sugar and adorned with beads of foxfire, so that the light would shine forever from her tomb at night and on the black, soundless days. This one.
Watermelon sugar is the alchemical substance saturated with poetry in its pure essential form.
July 11, 2013
I almost can't believe how dazzling this book is. In Watermelon Sugar is 138 pages long — many of which are half pages at best — and yet manages to whip up a stunning, strange, surreal little world, full of sad, sweet characters and shockingly beautiful images.
It's the simplest little story: two lovers, a scorned ex-girlfriend, an old-timer who lights the lanterns on the bridges, a chef who cooks nothing but carrots. The whole book takes place in a few days, in a tiny little town where everything (houses, statues, dishes, clothes, etc.) is made of watermelon sugar.
Oh, and the sun shines a different color every day of the week, so the watermelon sugar is different colors depending on the day it was made. On Sundays the sun is not only black but soundless, and everything is silent until the sun sets.
In addition to the statues of vegetables all around the town, there's a trout hatchery, the Forgotten Works, the abandoned bridge, a restaurant, and a huge lake, with couches on the beach. When anyone in town dies, they are put in a glass coffin which is lined with foxfire and sunk into the lake, where it glows and glows and glows.
I know a lot of people hate Brautigan pretty rabidly, but those people are obviously missing some kind of cog or other soul mechanism that fosters the appreciation of strange, sad beauty.
It's the simplest little story: two lovers, a scorned ex-girlfriend, an old-timer who lights the lanterns on the bridges, a chef who cooks nothing but carrots. The whole book takes place in a few days, in a tiny little town where everything (houses, statues, dishes, clothes, etc.) is made of watermelon sugar.
Oh, and the sun shines a different color every day of the week, so the watermelon sugar is different colors depending on the day it was made. On Sundays the sun is not only black but soundless, and everything is silent until the sun sets.
In addition to the statues of vegetables all around the town, there's a trout hatchery, the Forgotten Works, the abandoned bridge, a restaurant, and a huge lake, with couches on the beach. When anyone in town dies, they are put in a glass coffin which is lined with foxfire and sunk into the lake, where it glows and glows and glows.
I know a lot of people hate Brautigan pretty rabidly, but those people are obviously missing some kind of cog or other soul mechanism that fosters the appreciation of strange, sad beauty.
September 27, 2021
(Book 393 from 1001 books) - In Watermelon Sugar, Richard Brautigan
In Watermelon Sugar is an American post-apocalyptic novel by Richard Brautigan written in 1964 and published in 1968.
Set in the aftermath of a fallen civilization, it focuses on a commune organized around a central gathering house which is named "iDEATH".
In this environment, many things are made of watermelon sugar (though the inhabitants also use pine wood and stone for building material and fuel made from trout oil).
The landscape of the novel is constantly in flux; each day has a different colored sun which creates different colored watermelons, and the central building also changes frequently. The novel's narrator, who is left unnamed, claims to be writing an investigative book on his experiences at iDEATH.
در قند هندوانه - ریچارد براتیگان (چشمه)؛ تاریخ نخستین خوانش روز بیست و سوم ماه جولای سال 2012میلادی
عنوان: در قند هندوانه؛ نویسنده: ریچارد براتیگان؛ مترجم: مهدی نوید؛ تهران، نشر چشمه، 1384؛ در 184ص؛ چلپ دوم 1386؛ چپ چهارم 1387؛ شابک 9789643622183؛ چاپ پنجم 1389؛ چاپ هفتم 1394؛ موضوع داستانهای نویسندگان ایالات متحده آمریکا - سده 20م
مترجم: مهراداد واشقانی فراهانی؛ تهران، کوله پشتی، 1392؛ در 143ص؛ شابک 9786009310197؛
این اثر داستان یک کمون است که درباره ی یک خانه ی محفلی، که «آی‌دث (نوعی باغ عدن)» نام دارد، ساخته و پرداخته شده است؛ در آن فضا، بسیاری از چیزها از شیره ی قند استخراج شده از هندوانه، یا از چوب کاج، ساخته می‌شود؛ چشم انداز طبیعی محیط، مدام دیگر می‌شود و هر یک از روزهای هفته به یکی از رنگ‌های هندوانه هایی است که مردم کمون پرورش می‌دهند؛ روایتی دیگر از عشق آغازین آدم و حواست
نقل از متن: (مارگریت را دیدم که از یک درخت سیب در کنار کلبه اش بالا میرفت؛ گریه میکرد، و یک روسری دور گردنش گره زده بود؛ طرف دیگر روسری را که رها بود، گرفت، و به یکی از شاخه ها، که پر از سیبهای کال بود، بست؛ شاخه را رها کرد، و بعد در هوا معلق شد؛ دیگر به مجسمه ی آیینه ها نگاه نکردم؛ به قدر کافی برای آنروز دیده بودم؛ روی نیمکت کنار رودخانه نشستم، و به برکه ی عمیقی که در آنجا بود، خیره شدم؛ مارگریت مرده بود)؛ پایان نقل
تاریخ بهنگام رسانی 14/08/1399هجری خورشیدی؛ 04/07/1400هجری خورشیدی؛ ا. شربیانی
In Watermelon Sugar is an American post-apocalyptic novel by Richard Brautigan written in 1964 and published in 1968.
Set in the aftermath of a fallen civilization, it focuses on a commune organized around a central gathering house which is named "iDEATH".
In this environment, many things are made of watermelon sugar (though the inhabitants also use pine wood and stone for building material and fuel made from trout oil).
The landscape of the novel is constantly in flux; each day has a different colored sun which creates different colored watermelons, and the central building also changes frequently. The novel's narrator, who is left unnamed, claims to be writing an investigative book on his experiences at iDEATH.
در قند هندوانه - ریچارد براتیگان (چشمه)؛ تاریخ نخستین خوانش روز بیست و سوم ماه جولای سال 2012میلادی
عنوان: در قند هندوانه؛ نویسنده: ریچارد براتیگان؛ مترجم: مهدی نوید؛ تهران، نشر چشمه، 1384؛ در 184ص؛ چلپ دوم 1386؛ چپ چهارم 1387؛ شابک 9789643622183؛ چاپ پنجم 1389؛ چاپ هفتم 1394؛ موضوع داستانهای نویسندگان ایالات متحده آمریکا - سده 20م
مترجم: مهراداد واشقانی فراهانی؛ تهران، کوله پشتی، 1392؛ در 143ص؛ شابک 9786009310197؛
این اثر داستان یک کمون است که درباره ی یک خانه ی محفلی، که «آی‌دث (نوعی باغ عدن)» نام دارد، ساخته و پرداخته شده است؛ در آن فضا، بسیاری از چیزها از شیره ی قند استخراج شده از هندوانه، یا از چوب کاج، ساخته می‌شود؛ چشم انداز طبیعی محیط، مدام دیگر می‌شود و هر یک از روزهای هفته به یکی از رنگ‌های هندوانه هایی است که مردم کمون پرورش می‌دهند؛ روایتی دیگر از عشق آغازین آدم و حواست
نقل از متن: (مارگریت را دیدم که از یک درخت سیب در کنار کلبه اش بالا میرفت؛ گریه میکرد، و یک روسری دور گردنش گره زده بود؛ طرف دیگر روسری را که رها بود، گرفت، و به یکی از شاخه ها، که پر از سیبهای کال بود، بست؛ شاخه را رها کرد، و بعد در هوا معلق شد؛ دیگر به مجسمه ی آیینه ها نگاه نکردم؛ به قدر کافی برای آنروز دیده بودم؛ روی نیمکت کنار رودخانه نشستم، و به برکه ی عمیقی که در آنجا بود، خیره شدم؛ مارگریت مرده بود)؛ پایان نقل
تاریخ بهنگام رسانی 14/08/1399هجری خورشیدی؛ 04/07/1400هجری خورشیدی؛ ا. شربیانی
March 5, 2018
Bizarre and surreal pretty much sums this up and I know many people see this as utopian, a Garden of Eden setting in what seems to be a post-apocalyptic world. Brautigan indicated that Bolinas, the town in California where he lived for a while, provided something of a template. It is notoriously reclusive and the abode of poets, artists and ecologists.
The commune is called iDEATH and the narrator has a shack nearby and a room in the commune. There's his girlfriend Pauline, an ex-girlfriend Margaret, a chef who cooks mainly carrots and various assorted others. The sun is a different colour each day, most things are made of watermelon sugar and pine and there is little room for books. Nearby there is a vast rubbish dump full of forgotten things from previous times. Margaret is thought of as odd as she goes and collects these things. There is also a rogue element led by inBOIL and his friends who live in shacks and make whiskey from forgotten things. I haven't even mentioned the watermelontrout oil, the talking tigers (now extinct) and the trout (Brautigan liked trout).
There is a very comfortable and comforting communal way of life which is very simple and has inspired lots of positives and was very much appreciated in the 60s and 70s.
However there is a moral vacuum at the heart of iDEATH and the message is that you must conform. Margaret's untimely death and the undercurrent of violence is disturbing. There is one classic scene, which is really the centrepoint of the book which is pure Monty Python; remember the scene in Life of Brian where Brian is on the cross and thinks he is about to be rescued, but the rescuers commit mass suicide? I wonder if this is where the writers got the idea. Love and death are central themes here. Paradise is not all it seems and the main characters whilst at peace with nature are narrow and parochial with no sense of wanting to learn or know; no sense of adventure.
Lots of hidden messages and warnings for such a short book
The commune is called iDEATH and the narrator has a shack nearby and a room in the commune. There's his girlfriend Pauline, an ex-girlfriend Margaret, a chef who cooks mainly carrots and various assorted others. The sun is a different colour each day, most things are made of watermelon sugar and pine and there is little room for books. Nearby there is a vast rubbish dump full of forgotten things from previous times. Margaret is thought of as odd as she goes and collects these things. There is also a rogue element led by inBOIL and his friends who live in shacks and make whiskey from forgotten things. I haven't even mentioned the watermelontrout oil, the talking tigers (now extinct) and the trout (Brautigan liked trout).
There is a very comfortable and comforting communal way of life which is very simple and has inspired lots of positives and was very much appreciated in the 60s and 70s.
However there is a moral vacuum at the heart of iDEATH and the message is that you must conform. Margaret's untimely death and the undercurrent of violence is disturbing. There is one classic scene, which is really the centrepoint of the book which is pure Monty Python; remember the scene in Life of Brian where Brian is on the cross and thinks he is about to be rescued, but the rescuers commit mass suicide? I wonder if this is where the writers got the idea. Love and death are central themes here. Paradise is not all it seems and the main characters whilst at peace with nature are narrow and parochial with no sense of wanting to learn or know; no sense of adventure.
Lots of hidden messages and warnings for such a short book
February 21, 2022
I don't know, friends. There's something about Richard Brautigan.
Something so gentle, and alive, and surprising, and bizarre, and kind, and understanding, and childlike, and whimsical, and dark, and wildly off the page.
Something... magic.
He's completely his own thing, no one quite like him.
Somehow, he manages to embody the counterculture of the 1960s, without bringing politics into it.
In Watermelon Sugar is short. In few pages, it tells a story that is post apocalyptic, funny, sad, surprising, off-beat. So much has already been said about it, and I can't claim to totally understand it. Talking tigers (now extinct) have wreaked havoc, and now the surviving people live in iDEATH. It could be seen as a parody of a communal or pastoral society, which seems lovely on the surface, but which requires a certain amount of conformity. Or it could be the author's fantasy of leaving the world that wasn't working, behind. All I know is that it dazzled me with its sweet, unassuming ways. Its wholly natural, poetic vibe.
Brautigan's writing gives me a feeling of freedom - green fields of freedom, a golden sky of freedom - to be who I am. In life, and in art. Ahhhhh.
To be clear, this isn't just a bunch of hippie-granola-malarky. It's actually vicious in parts. People bleed and die in these pages. But somehow when I read it, I feel like I'm riding on the back of a sparkly winged unicorn.
I'm not very eloquent today. I'll let the work speak for itself:
“I guess you are kind of curious as to who I am, but I am one of those who do not have a regular name. My name depends on you. Just call me whatever is in your mind.
If you are thinking about something that happened a long time ago: Somebody asked you a question and you did not know the answer.
That is my name.
Perhaps it was raining very hard.
That is my name.
Or somebody wanted you to do something. You did it. Then they told you what you did was wrong—“Sorry for the mistake,”—and you had to do something else.
That is my name.
Perhaps it was a game you played when you were a child or something that came idly into your mind when you were old and sitting in a chair near the window.
That is my name.
Or you walked someplace. There were flowers all around.
That is my name.
Perhaps you stared into a river. There was someone near you who loved you. They were about to touch you. You could feel this before it happened. Then it happened.
That is my name.”
Something so gentle, and alive, and surprising, and bizarre, and kind, and understanding, and childlike, and whimsical, and dark, and wildly off the page.
Something... magic.
He's completely his own thing, no one quite like him.
Somehow, he manages to embody the counterculture of the 1960s, without bringing politics into it.
In Watermelon Sugar is short. In few pages, it tells a story that is post apocalyptic, funny, sad, surprising, off-beat. So much has already been said about it, and I can't claim to totally understand it. Talking tigers (now extinct) have wreaked havoc, and now the surviving people live in iDEATH. It could be seen as a parody of a communal or pastoral society, which seems lovely on the surface, but which requires a certain amount of conformity. Or it could be the author's fantasy of leaving the world that wasn't working, behind. All I know is that it dazzled me with its sweet, unassuming ways. Its wholly natural, poetic vibe.
Brautigan's writing gives me a feeling of freedom - green fields of freedom, a golden sky of freedom - to be who I am. In life, and in art. Ahhhhh.
To be clear, this isn't just a bunch of hippie-granola-malarky. It's actually vicious in parts. People bleed and die in these pages. But somehow when I read it, I feel like I'm riding on the back of a sparkly winged unicorn.
I'm not very eloquent today. I'll let the work speak for itself:
“I guess you are kind of curious as to who I am, but I am one of those who do not have a regular name. My name depends on you. Just call me whatever is in your mind.
If you are thinking about something that happened a long time ago: Somebody asked you a question and you did not know the answer.
That is my name.
Perhaps it was raining very hard.
That is my name.
Or somebody wanted you to do something. You did it. Then they told you what you did was wrong—“Sorry for the mistake,”—and you had to do something else.
That is my name.
Perhaps it was a game you played when you were a child or something that came idly into your mind when you were old and sitting in a chair near the window.
That is my name.
Or you walked someplace. There were flowers all around.
That is my name.
Perhaps you stared into a river. There was someone near you who loved you. They were about to touch you. You could feel this before it happened. Then it happened.
That is my name.”
October 25, 2019
One of the worst books I have ever read, completely overrated, this seems to be one of these cases of a too subtle, culturally important, snob, hyped by pseudo-intellectuals novels without any real worth. Don´t read it, it will disappoint, it makes no sense, it has no plot, red line, inner logic, is instead full of inconsistency, nothing, I was really disappointed after reading it. I see the same thing happen in movies too when the general public loves a great, "just" entertaining masterpiece and the so-called critics deem it unworthy.
But when a work is so unconventional that it is a mess to watch and read, the so-called critics go bonkers cause of the hidden depth and sh$3 and each normal human being just thinks: "When there are certain, great concepts for making movies and books work, why is it so hyper to bore everyone and make something everyone could do by just writing and directing anything in a creative juice floating mega climax. Then anyone could say, look, I wrote something without concept." The funny thing is, in music and art (not modern lol) one would immediately recognize that all makes no sense because it is dissonant or looks just ridiculous. With literature, it seems to be legit.
Even (Nobel) prices are given for creating cruelties like that, while evil mainstream or low, junk, light fiction gets ignored. I love those state founded literature prices where just boring, horrible stuff gets honored, but no great works of fiction. If it is pseudointellectual, contemporary, strictly without any evil fantasy or fiction, it is ok. I wouldn´t even wipe my... mouth with this medley, cause I would be afraid that it could contaminate me, get into my bloodstream, infect my brain and I would begin talking senseless stuff just I understand and completely lose the hold on a topic whenever I want and change to something else without even telling anyone about it and thinking that I am so freaking clever. What I really hate about stuff like that is if people start to hate reading because something like this is given to them, probably Ayn Rand Atlas Shrugged too and the trauma is completely understandable. I probably wouldn´t have continued reading if someone would have done such cruel things to me, nearly tortured me with force-reading, when I was still young.
As an excuse, if readers are high all the time, everything may be great and I believe much of the average and very bad hippie and beatnik literature of the 60s to 80s has this problem. If I would drink 6 to 8 beer (Austrian beer has up to over 5 volume percent alcohol and is in 0,5 liter bottles) and be able to read without getting an alcohol poisoning or start smoking weed, I would probably find this great too.
This is what happens when art, creativity without order, writing without training, is hyped by enough people to become a so-called masterpiece (of sh§$). Real, aspiring authors that work hard, train, read autodidactic literature, visit creative writing courses, read much in general and are brilliant can´t get published because worthless literature like that takes the space.
I had to get these thoughts about some overrated books out of my system, now I feel much better.
A wiki walk can be as refreshing to the mind as a walk through nature in this, yuck, ugh, boo, completely overrated real-life outside books:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pseudop...
https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/pseudo...
https://www.urbandictionary.com/defin...
Tropes show how literature is made and which mixture of elements makes works and genres unique:
https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.ph...
But when a work is so unconventional that it is a mess to watch and read, the so-called critics go bonkers cause of the hidden depth and sh$3 and each normal human being just thinks: "When there are certain, great concepts for making movies and books work, why is it so hyper to bore everyone and make something everyone could do by just writing and directing anything in a creative juice floating mega climax. Then anyone could say, look, I wrote something without concept." The funny thing is, in music and art (not modern lol) one would immediately recognize that all makes no sense because it is dissonant or looks just ridiculous. With literature, it seems to be legit.
Even (Nobel) prices are given for creating cruelties like that, while evil mainstream or low, junk, light fiction gets ignored. I love those state founded literature prices where just boring, horrible stuff gets honored, but no great works of fiction. If it is pseudointellectual, contemporary, strictly without any evil fantasy or fiction, it is ok. I wouldn´t even wipe my... mouth with this medley, cause I would be afraid that it could contaminate me, get into my bloodstream, infect my brain and I would begin talking senseless stuff just I understand and completely lose the hold on a topic whenever I want and change to something else without even telling anyone about it and thinking that I am so freaking clever. What I really hate about stuff like that is if people start to hate reading because something like this is given to them, probably Ayn Rand Atlas Shrugged too and the trauma is completely understandable. I probably wouldn´t have continued reading if someone would have done such cruel things to me, nearly tortured me with force-reading, when I was still young.
As an excuse, if readers are high all the time, everything may be great and I believe much of the average and very bad hippie and beatnik literature of the 60s to 80s has this problem. If I would drink 6 to 8 beer (Austrian beer has up to over 5 volume percent alcohol and is in 0,5 liter bottles) and be able to read without getting an alcohol poisoning or start smoking weed, I would probably find this great too.
This is what happens when art, creativity without order, writing without training, is hyped by enough people to become a so-called masterpiece (of sh§$). Real, aspiring authors that work hard, train, read autodidactic literature, visit creative writing courses, read much in general and are brilliant can´t get published because worthless literature like that takes the space.
I had to get these thoughts about some overrated books out of my system, now I feel much better.
A wiki walk can be as refreshing to the mind as a walk through nature in this, yuck, ugh, boo, completely overrated real-life outside books:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pseudop...
https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/pseudo...
https://www.urbandictionary.com/defin...
Tropes show how literature is made and which mixture of elements makes works and genres unique:
https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.ph...
February 22, 2021
این کتاب تبدیل شد به یکی از خاص‌ترین و عجیب‌ترین کتاب‌هایی که به عمرم خوندم! و اعتراف می‌کنم که خوب نفهمیدمش!
کتابی که دنیایی متفاوت داره، متفاوت نسبت به دنیای ما آدم‌ها، متفاوت نسبت به تخیلات ما آدم‌ها و حتی متفاوت نسبت به عجیب‌ترین رویاهامون!
همه ما ممکنه دنیای کتاب‌های مختلف رو درک کرده باشیم، حتی قبل از خوندنشون! همه ما قبل از خوندن بلندی‌های بادگیر، اون محیط رو یا توی بیداری دیدیم یا توی فکر و خیال و خواب.
همه ما بی‌نهایت کتاب و فیلم راجب جنگ جهانی دوم خوندیم و دیدیم و قبل از خوندن خیلی از اون کتاب‌های ضد جنگ، به دنیاهاشون فکر کردیم.
و
و
و
اما دنیای قند هندوانه، محاله توی ذهن کسی که این کتاب رو نخونده، وجود داشته باشه!! دنیایی غریب که خورشیدش هر روز یک رنگه! دنیایی که مرده‌هاش در کف رودخانه‌ها دفن میشن! دنیایی که برای رسیدن از اتاقی به اتاق دیگه داخل خونه‌ات، باید از زیر رودخونه‌ای رد بشی! دنیایی که ببرهاش حرف میزنن و جنس متریال خونه‌هاشون از هندوانه و قند هندوانه‌اس!
ببینید دوستان، من هرچی بیشتر بگم، بیشتر کتابو براتون لو دادم! :))
فقط نمی‌دونم این چیزها چطور به ذهن براتیگان رسیده!
در نقدهای دیگه، دوستان بسیار موشکافانه پرداختن به کتاب، ولی من بیشتر از این لو نمیدم متن و داستان رو، برای همین قید خیلی چیزها رو می‌زنم و نمی‌نویسم.
نکته آخر، این سومین تجربه کتاب‌خوانی من از نشر کوله پشتی بود و ترجمه بسیاااااااااار بد و کتاب مملو از غلط املایی و نگارشی بود! محاله دیگه کتابی از انتشارات کوله پشتی بخرم.
کتابی که دنیایی متفاوت داره، متفاوت نسبت به دنیای ما آدم‌ها، متفاوت نسبت به تخیلات ما آدم‌ها و حتی متفاوت نسبت به عجیب‌ترین رویاهامون!
همه ما ممکنه دنیای کتاب‌های مختلف رو درک کرده باشیم، حتی قبل از خوندنشون! همه ما قبل از خوندن بلندی‌های بادگیر، اون محیط رو یا توی بیداری دیدیم یا توی فکر و خیال و خواب.
همه ما بی‌نهایت کتاب و فیلم راجب جنگ جهانی دوم خوندیم و دیدیم و قبل از خوندن خیلی از اون کتاب‌های ضد جنگ، به دنیاهاشون فکر کردیم.
و
و
و
اما دنیای قند هندوانه، محاله توی ذهن کسی که این کتاب رو نخونده، وجود داشته باشه!! دنیایی غریب که خورشیدش هر روز یک رنگه! دنیایی که مرده‌هاش در کف رودخانه‌ها دفن میشن! دنیایی که برای رسیدن از اتاقی به اتاق دیگه داخل خونه‌ات، باید از زیر رودخونه‌ای رد بشی! دنیایی که ببرهاش حرف میزنن و جنس متریال خونه‌هاشون از هندوانه و قند هندوانه‌اس!
ببینید دوستان، من هرچی بیشتر بگم، بیشتر کتابو براتون لو دادم! :))
فقط نمی‌دونم این چیزها چطور به ذهن براتیگان رسیده!
در نقدهای دیگه، دوستان بسیار موشکافانه پرداختن به کتاب، ولی من بیشتر از این لو نمیدم متن و داستان رو، برای همین قید خیلی چیزها رو می‌زنم و نمی‌نویسم.
نکته آخر، این سومین تجربه کتاب‌خوانی من از نشر کوله پشتی بود و ترجمه بسیاااااااااار بد و کتاب مملو از غلط املایی و نگارشی بود! محاله دیگه کتابی از انتشارات کوله پشتی بخرم.
March 8, 2021
This quote hit me
‘Everything is reflected in the statue of mirrors if you stand there long enough and empty your mind of everything else but the mirrors, and you must be careful not to want anything from the mirrors. They just have to happen.
An hour or so passed as my mind drained out. Some people cannot see anything in the statue of mirrors, not even themselves’
‘Everything is reflected in the statue of mirrors if you stand there long enough and empty your mind of everything else but the mirrors, and you must be careful not to want anything from the mirrors. They just have to happen.
An hour or so passed as my mind drained out. Some people cannot see anything in the statue of mirrors, not even themselves’
June 9, 2008
Softly we are Richard Brautigan and we have nothing to do with hippies and we fish for trout and keep some of the trout in there because we are Richard and we like to look at them. It suits us to have this mustache and to touch it periodically like one might touch a butterfly sitting there and wipe the crumbs away from something special that we have just eaten and enjoyed.
February 14, 2021
For something so postmodern I really didn’t expect to enjoy it as much as it did. It’s definitely one of the more special thing I’ve read, especially regarding structure. But idk I just really liked the frankness of it all. Brautigan doesn’t give you the ‘why’s’ that we all desperately want to try and make sense of the world and the happenings we find ourselves in. Sometimes we do just need to accept things as they are in order to move on, or function, or even just cope, like the narrators trying to in his post-apocalyptic world. Maybe we all need a bit of that now to make it through our own.
Found it rather Godot.
Ty Harry I’d never have read it otherwise.
Also whatever he was on I want some.
Found it rather Godot.
Ty Harry I’d never have read it otherwise.
Also whatever he was on I want some.
Read
July 1, 2020
What if the opening line of Richard Brautigan's novella read, "In hard drugs the deeds were done and done again as my life is done in hard drugs," rather than " In watermelon sugar the deeds were done and done again as my life is done in watermelon sugar," setting the tone for "hard drugs" replacing "watermelon sugar" throughout?
I just did finish my second read through the novella as well as listening to the audio book. One thing is for sure - if we see watermelon sugar as a hard drug - heroin, crack, cocaine, crystal meth, mescaline - the entire tale assumes a much different cast. Immediately all the talk of iDEATH and the tigers can send shivers up a reader's spine.
By way of example, two quotes -
"The tigers and how they lived and how beautiful they were and how they died and how they talked to me while they ate my parents, and how I talked back to them and how they stopped eating my parents, though it did not help my parents any, nothing could help them by then, and we talked for a long time and one of the tigers helped me with my arithmetic, then they told me to go away while they finished eating my parents, and I went away. I returned later that night to burn the shack down. That's what we did in those days."
"I will tell you. This place stinks. This isn't iDEATH at all. This is just a figment of your imagination. All of you guys here are just a bunch of clucks, doing clucky things at your
clucky iDEATH.
"iDEATH—ha, don't make me laugh. This place is nothing but a claptrap. You wouldn't know iDEATH if it walked up and bit you.
"I know more about iDEATH than all of you guys, especially Charley here who thinks he's something extra. I know more about iDEATH in my little finger than all you guys know put together.
"You haven't the slightest idea what's going on here. I know. I know. I know. To hell with your iDEATH. I've forgotten more iDEATH than you guys will ever know. I'm going down to the Forgotten Works to live. You guys can have this damn rat hole."
Every chapter of Richard Brautigan's hippy farm tale takes us deeper, deeper into Benzedrine Bill's Interzone.
December 3, 2016
برای کسی مثل من که خیلی براتیگان رو نمی‌شناسه، در قند هندوانه می‌تونه تجربه نچسبی اطلاق شه. یه بخشش به نظرم بر می‌گرده به اینکه براتیگان قبل از نویسنده‌بودن- خصوصاً رمان‌نویس‌بودن-، شاعر بوده. خیلی ریسکه یه شاعر بخواد رمان بنویسه؛ هر چند من دوست دارم بگم داستان‌بلند؛ چون به لحاظ فرمی واقعاً رمان نیست و حتی دقیق‌تر بخوایم بگیم، داستان‌بلند هم نمی‌تونه باشه. یه جور مینی‌مالِ پیشرفته شاید! :)) به هر حال وقتی شاعر باشی و بخوای رمان بنویسی، بسیاری از تکنیک‌های شاعری رو تو رمانت به کار می‌بری. اون ایماژیسم خاص و ایجاز و استعاره‌ها، تو یه قالبِ داستان‌نما سر و کله‌شون پیدا میشه و همراهِ نثری میشن که حتی تو ترجمه‌ی خیلی متوسط هم داد می‌زنه چقدر شعرمآبه. نثر نثرِ شعره. قشنگ نحوه ارائه تصاویر و ایجازها، شاعرانه‌ان. این اثر واقعاً رمان نیست. داستان هست. ولی رمان نیست.
براتیگان خوندن یه چیزه، براتیگان دوست داشتن یه چیز دیگه. یادمه پارسال یه مقاله می‌خوندم که در تحلیلِ ادبیات معاصر، یه چیزی نوشته بود شبیه اینکه نویسنده‌ها سه دست��ان: 1. مدرنیست‌ها 2. پست‌مدرنیست‌ها 3. براتیگان! :)) شاید برای ضدبراتیگان‌ها( :دی) این تحلیل خیلی اغراق‌گونه باشه. منم اینو نگفتم که بگم موافقم یا حتی مخالفم. ولی می‌خوام بگم براتیگان شخصیت راحتی نبوده. کافیه تو ویکی‌پدیا بری زندگی‌شو بخونی که ببینی یه آدم با این مدل زندگی، به هیچ‌وجه یه شخصیت راحتی نیست. فلذا نویسنده راحتی هم نیست.
من ازون دسته از خواننده‌ها نیستم که بیام خوشالی کنم و ذوق کنم و تعریف کنم که اوووف چقد حال کردم باهاش و اینا! چون خیلیاشون نفهمیدن براتیگان چی می‌گه- مصداق عینی برای این ادعا دارما، برداشت شخصی نیست- ولی فقط می‌دونن یه چیز باحالی می‌خواسته بگه! :)) و راستشو بخواید، به نظرم نحوه نوشتنِ براتیگان نشون می‌ده که خودشم واقعاً نمی‌دونسته می‌خواسته چی بگه. باز هم بخاطر اینکه براتیگان شاعره! و همونطور که تو شعر یهو یه چیزی بهت الهام میشه و خودتم نمی‌دونی قراره به کجا برسه ولی می‌ذاری بیاد و جاری شه، این داستان هم از قلم براتیگان جاری شده. چیزی که می‌گم، مطلق نیست یحتمل. ولی به هر حال شعر جوششی‌ـه. داستان- به ویژه رمان- طرح و پیرنگ میخواد. باز هم به همین خاطره که می‌گم این اثر رمان نیست، داستان‌بلندم نیست، شعر هم نیست و لطفاً عزیزانِ ادبیات‌خونده و فرهیخته‌ی گودریدز، یک معادل درست و درمون برای براتیگان پیدا کنید که همه‌مون به یه آرامشی برسیم. :D
من مطمئنم براتیگان خودشم نمی‌تونسته خودشو بفهمه. دنیایی که تو این داستان ترسیم کرده، شخصیت‌ها، تمثیل‌ها، تصویرها، ایجازها.. همه فقط تا حدی دست‌یافتنی‌ان. تا یه حد زیادی انتزاعی و هایپرسوررئال( خب نیگا کنین مجبور می‌شم دست به چه حرکتی بزنم! :)) کمک کنین :D ) باقی مونده. حداقل برای من. اثری نبود که مثل خیلی‌ها ستایشش کنم و اسم براتیگان بیاد، برم تو هپروت و اینا. ولی باعث شد دقتم تو خوندن و درک‌کردن و بررسی نویسنده‌ها و داستان‌ها بیشتر بشه. و توجه ویژه‌ای نسبت به براتیگان مبذول بدارم و اینا.
+ در واقع من باید الآن سرِ درسم باشم. :| دوتا امتحان کَت و کلفت پشت سر هم دارم و در نهایت خونسردی، نشستم تو گودریدز ریویو مینویسم!! یکی به من استرس یاد بده! :))
براتیگان خوندن یه چیزه، براتیگان دوست داشتن یه چیز دیگه. یادمه پارسال یه مقاله می‌خوندم که در تحلیلِ ادبیات معاصر، یه چیزی نوشته بود شبیه اینکه نویسنده‌ها سه دست��ان: 1. مدرنیست‌ها 2. پست‌مدرنیست‌ها 3. براتیگان! :)) شاید برای ضدبراتیگان‌ها( :دی) این تحلیل خیلی اغراق‌گونه باشه. منم اینو نگفتم که بگم موافقم یا حتی مخالفم. ولی می‌خوام بگم براتیگان شخصیت راحتی نبوده. کافیه تو ویکی‌پدیا بری زندگی‌شو بخونی که ببینی یه آدم با این مدل زندگی، به هیچ‌وجه یه شخصیت راحتی نیست. فلذا نویسنده راحتی هم نیست.
من ازون دسته از خواننده‌ها نیستم که بیام خوشالی کنم و ذوق کنم و تعریف کنم که اوووف چقد حال کردم باهاش و اینا! چون خیلیاشون نفهمیدن براتیگان چی می‌گه- مصداق عینی برای این ادعا دارما، برداشت شخصی نیست- ولی فقط می‌دونن یه چیز باحالی می‌خواسته بگه! :)) و راستشو بخواید، به نظرم نحوه نوشتنِ براتیگان نشون می‌ده که خودشم واقعاً نمی‌دونسته می‌خواسته چی بگه. باز هم بخاطر اینکه براتیگان شاعره! و همونطور که تو شعر یهو یه چیزی بهت الهام میشه و خودتم نمی‌دونی قراره به کجا برسه ولی می‌ذاری بیاد و جاری شه، این داستان هم از قلم براتیگان جاری شده. چیزی که می‌گم، مطلق نیست یحتمل. ولی به هر حال شعر جوششی‌ـه. داستان- به ویژه رمان- طرح و پیرنگ میخواد. باز هم به همین خاطره که می‌گم این اثر رمان نیست، داستان‌بلندم نیست، شعر هم نیست و لطفاً عزیزانِ ادبیات‌خونده و فرهیخته‌ی گودریدز، یک معادل درست و درمون برای براتیگان پیدا کنید که همه‌مون به یه آرامشی برسیم. :D
من مطمئنم براتیگان خودشم نمی‌تونسته خودشو بفهمه. دنیایی که تو این داستان ترسیم کرده، شخصیت‌ها، تمثیل‌ها، تصویرها، ایجازها.. همه فقط تا حدی دست‌یافتنی‌ان. تا یه حد زیادی انتزاعی و هایپرسوررئال( خب نیگا کنین مجبور می‌شم دست به چه حرکتی بزنم! :)) کمک کنین :D ) باقی مونده. حداقل برای من. اثری نبود که مثل خیلی‌ها ستایشش کنم و اسم براتیگان بیاد، برم تو هپروت و اینا. ولی باعث شد دقتم تو خوندن و درک‌کردن و بررسی نویسنده‌ها و داستان‌ها بیشتر بشه. و توجه ویژه‌ای نسبت به براتیگان مبذول بدارم و اینا.
+ در واقع من باید الآن سرِ درسم باشم. :| دوتا امتحان کَت و کلفت پشت سر هم دارم و در نهایت خونسردی، نشستم تو گودریدز ریویو مینویسم!! یکی به من استرس یاد بده! :))
March 27, 2007
This is hands down my favorite book of all time. I wish I could give it more stars than five. It's written by a beat poet but sometimes feels more like Science Fiction crossed with stream of consciousness.
The first line of the book "In Watermelon Sugar, the deeds were done and done again, as my life is done in Watermelon Sugar." sets the mood of the book.
You're never really sure if it's all happening on Earth but in a different time or just in the mind of the author. The sun shines a different color everyday, there are talking tigers, missing things and bandits in this wonderful book.
What I like the most about it is the calm gentle interactions between the characters. They love potatoes and no one cares about much beyond the present. It's life like you imagine it with all the bullshit stripped away.
The first line of the book "In Watermelon Sugar, the deeds were done and done again, as my life is done in Watermelon Sugar." sets the mood of the book.
You're never really sure if it's all happening on Earth but in a different time or just in the mind of the author. The sun shines a different color everyday, there are talking tigers, missing things and bandits in this wonderful book.
What I like the most about it is the calm gentle interactions between the characters. They love potatoes and no one cares about much beyond the present. It's life like you imagine it with all the bullshit stripped away.
March 24, 2021
I don’t write reviews.
This was better the second time. I’m not super fast ok. I didn’t know A Clockwork Orange was the future or that Groucho Marx had a painted mustache, for longer than I care to admit. Sue me that I didn’t think of this story as the future when I read it about 15 years ago. Now I see it. Kinda.
I-death is a commune in a town in a probably post-war future. Maybe. Or like I thought the first time it’s another place entirely. Now I see I-death as a place to kill the ego. A shared space with no walls or privacy. And I don’t think of the watermelons as watermelons at all. I can’t explain what I see when I think of them. Don’t get me started on the tigers.
Did I mention the glass coffins so you could watch what happens next?
Brautigan doesn’t write beginnings or endings. Where most would flounder in the just-deep-enough-you-can’t-touch-bottom water, he thrives. He inspired me when I felt empty once. I found a bunch of first editions in a shop in British Columbia. Without even knowing who he was I bought them all. For one buck a piece I made out damn well. I giggled in sheer delight as I read Willard and His Bowling Trophies: A Perverse Mystery. I felt at home. I always feel at home in his world.
This was better the second time. I’m not super fast ok. I didn’t know A Clockwork Orange was the future or that Groucho Marx had a painted mustache, for longer than I care to admit. Sue me that I didn’t think of this story as the future when I read it about 15 years ago. Now I see it. Kinda.
I-death is a commune in a town in a probably post-war future. Maybe. Or like I thought the first time it’s another place entirely. Now I see I-death as a place to kill the ego. A shared space with no walls or privacy. And I don’t think of the watermelons as watermelons at all. I can’t explain what I see when I think of them. Don’t get me started on the tigers.
Did I mention the glass coffins so you could watch what happens next?
Brautigan doesn’t write beginnings or endings. Where most would flounder in the just-deep-enough-you-can’t-touch-bottom water, he thrives. He inspired me when I felt empty once. I found a bunch of first editions in a shop in British Columbia. Without even knowing who he was I bought them all. For one buck a piece I made out damn well. I giggled in sheer delight as I read Willard and His Bowling Trophies: A Perverse Mystery. I felt at home. I always feel at home in his world.
January 8, 2023
در مذمت سانسورچی، نشر‌های ایرانی و هر چیزی که بوی
سانسور می‌دهد
یه روز ابری، تو کافه نشستیم و دوستم کتاب خودش رو درآورد، کنار تاریخ خریدش، مجدد تاریخ زد و نوشت «مالکیت این کتاب به یک‌گانه منقل می‌شود.»
کتاب رو شروع کردم و صبح‌ها، تو اورژانس بیمارستان میخوندمش. همه چی خیلی خوب و آروم در گذر بود و از خوندن دنیایی که از قند هندوانه ساخته شده لذت می‌بردم که یهو حس کردم یه چیزی تو کتاب مشکل داره.
اینقدر کتاب سانسور شده خوندم که بتونم رد پای کثیف سانسورچی رو حس کنم.
شک کردم که شاید حساسیت بیش از حدم باعث شده به نسخه انگلیسیش شک کنم، تو اعماق ذهنم میگفتم بابا دیگه اینقدر کم‌شعور نیستن که برن نسخه اصلی نویسنده رو هم سانسور کنن.
به هر حال پی‌دی‌اف کتاب رو پید�� کردم و مطابقت دادنش با نسخه‌ی چاپیم فاجعه بود.
کتابم خیلی ناقص بود.
از بوسیدن تا لباس عوض کردن سانسور شده بود.
واقعیت تلخ اینه که سانسور چی تو کتاب درسی، علمی، داستان و رمان، کوچه و خیابون، مدرسه و دانشگاه هست.
سرش نه فقط تو زندگیمون که توی لباس زیرمون هم هست که یهو کسی این وسط از شنیدن اسم شورت و سوتین تحریک نشه.
یهو اگه تو متن کتاب بخونیم فلانی، فلانی رو بوسید، آلوده به گناه نشیم.
سانسورچی حواسش هست که اگه شما ترجمه نخونی و بری نسخه اصلی رو بخونی، متن رو سانسور کرده باشه، خلاصه که اینجا سانسورچی، اسم الهه‌ی بزرگ ماست.
الهه‌ی قدرتمندی که ردش رو همه جا می‌ذاره.
دیدنش خشمگینمون می‌کنه و همه جا هست، نتیجه اینه که ما همیشه خشمگینیم.
سانسورچی باعث شد اون کتابی که روز قشنگ ابری هدیه گرفته باشم رو دوست نداشته باشم، ۵۰ صفحه رو تو دو روز خوندم و ۹۰ صفحه‌ای که ردپای سانسورچی رو دیدم، بیست روز و به سختی تموم کردم، اونم به احترام همون روز بارونی و قشنگ...
زندگی در گذره.
میگذره و شاید روزی که این ریویو رو میخونید، بت الهه‌ی سانسور شکسته باشه.
بتونید لابه‌لای ورق‌های کتاب‌هایی که افست نیستن، کلمه‌ی بوسیدن رو ببینید.
اون روز یادتون باشه، مردم همه جمع میشدن که با هم بشن تبری که بت رو می‌کشه.
بوی خون همه جا شنیده میشه.
برای آزادی که ارزشمندترین دارایی ماست.
در امتیاز کتاب، سانسورچی در نظر گرفته نشده است.
۱۸دی‌ماه هزار و چهارصد و یک.
ایران
December 12, 2011
This is the book that made me realize that Brautigan was a sham writer. I had my suspicions after reading Revenge of the Lawn and Trout Fishing in America, but this one put him forever in my private slush pile. I don't understand the reputation that has been handed him and I don't think he deserves it for the folderal he manufactured. His poetry is all right, at least I remember The Pill Versus the Springhill Mine Disaster as not entirely without worth. Some of it makes me laugh at least. But his fiction is false, dead and dreary. I've never been so bored as when I was in In Watermelon Sugar and I can no longer pretend his work is important just because so many other people think it is.
May 18, 2017
اتمسفر این رمان خیلی خوب بود.
اتمسفری ساکت و توی‌سایه با کلی چیزای عجیب‌غریب که با منطق داستانی خودش جلو می‌ره.
توی ریویوهای دیگه، خیلی اشاره کردن، منم باز بکنم.
با خوندن این کتاب نباید دنبال خطِ روایی و پیرنگ و این چیزا بود. بیشتر باید فضاشو حس کرد و دنیایی که ترسیم کرده رو درک کرد و واردش شد و با لمس کردن و تصور کردنِ این دنیای عجیب و جالب و گاهی معنا‌گرایانه، لذت برد و تفسیر و تعابیر شخصی خودمونو نسبت بهش داشته باشیم.
اتمسفری ساکت و توی‌سایه با کلی چیزای عجیب‌غریب که با منطق داستانی خودش جلو می‌ره.
توی ریویوهای دیگه، خیلی اشاره کردن، منم باز بکنم.
با خوندن این کتاب نباید دنبال خطِ روایی و پیرنگ و این چیزا بود. بیشتر باید فضاشو حس کرد و دنیایی که ترسیم کرده رو درک کرد و واردش شد و با لمس کردن و تصور کردنِ این دنیای عجیب و جالب و گاهی معنا‌گرایانه، لذت برد و تفسیر و تعابیر شخصی خودمونو نسبت بهش داشته باشیم.
July 12, 2024
This infamously multi-faceted countercultural classic lives up to its expectations: In a parody of the hippie life style mixed up with a fable, Brautigan tells the story of iDeath, which is, dear 21st century readers, not a new Apple device, but a postapocalyptic commune centered around a house of this very name (Buddhism, ego death, you get the hippie idea). Many things in this world are made of the title-giving watermelon sugar, which makes no sense on a factual level, but adds to the overall hallucinatory quality of the text, as do the LSD-like effects of changing colors and structures.
Love & peace have of course long been perverted (the apocalypse apparently not leading to any kind of second coming), and the beautiful natural sights plus the love story between the narrator and a woman are mixed up with two dark, recurring plot points: The murder of the entire population of anthropomorphic tigers by humans, plus a seperatist cult committing communal suicide - this book was published in 1968, the Heaven's Gate ritual suicide happened in 1997. Scary. Also, good luck trying to interpret what the tiger genocide stands for, because there are several answers that ring true, none of them shedding a good light on humanity.
The language and composition of this novel are amazing, the interpretative levels are intriguing, and this holds a well-deserved place in the realms of American literary classics.
Love & peace have of course long been perverted (the apocalypse apparently not leading to any kind of second coming), and the beautiful natural sights plus the love story between the narrator and a woman are mixed up with two dark, recurring plot points: The murder of the entire population of anthropomorphic tigers by humans, plus a seperatist cult committing communal suicide - this book was published in 1968, the Heaven's Gate ritual suicide happened in 1997. Scary. Also, good luck trying to interpret what the tiger genocide stands for, because there are several answers that ring true, none of them shedding a good light on humanity.
The language and composition of this novel are amazing, the interpretative levels are intriguing, and this holds a well-deserved place in the realms of American literary classics.
October 16, 2010
Remarkable imagination. At times funny yet dark overall. Poetic yet simple lines. One of the two books that I am planning to re-read again and again.
Richard Brautigan (1935-1984), born in Tacoma, Washington, wrote this novella only for around 60 days in 1964, the year I was born. However, this was only published in 1968. In Watermelon Sugar was his 3rd novel after he earlier got noticed with his first, A Confederate General From Big Sur and got catapulted to international fame with his second, Trout Fishing in America. These three books were published in the 60's at the height of Cold War, The Beatle's popularity, hippies and the Anti-Vietnam war movements. Brautigan was one of those young men who seemed to have been caught in the counterculture revolutions sweeping the youths in the 60's.
Like the other literary greats, Ernest Hemingway, Virginia Woolf, Sylvia Plath, Hunter S. Thompson and Yukio Mishima, Richard Brautigan also committed suicide. Like Hemingway, he shot himself in the head. He was 49 years old. Someone has said: their minds are just too beautiful to age and rot in this world.
To date, I have already read around 340 books. Still, my favorite is The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupery (1900-1944). I did not know exactly why. I first read it in elementary school when I was 8 years old but was not able to finish it. I still remember the elephant inside the boa constrictor and I was scared but I heard stories of snakes swallowing whole chicken so I did not see any metaphor or allusion on that. The next time I read it was when I was in college and it was the first required reading in our World's Literature class. That was when I appreciated the whole story as we were required to go through the plot, theme, characters, quotes, lessons, etc.
For me, In Watermelon Sugar is the continuation of The Little Prince. Surreal settings. Ethereal characters. It is as if the child-like characters of Saint-Exupery became real people, grew up but continued to live not on their individual planets but this time in a make-believe world where Watermelon Works, Forgotten Works and iDeath were. Unlike the Little Prince who does not grow up or old, in Brautigan's novella, his quirky characters are dark, fall in love, fall out of love, cheat, cook and eat breakfast and commit suicide. But after burying their dead, they go to the plaza and dance their sadness away.
Brautigan taught me why I like De Saint-Exupery: some novels were written by authors for themselves. Perhaps they just would like to test the limit of their creativity. Perhaps during those 60 days, creative thoughts came rushing through Brautigan's brilliant mind and he had to write them.
Some authors would just only want us to watch their characters. To wonder about them. To cheer for them. But not be them. Their worlds will never be ours and those characters could never be us. They are the figments of their creators' fertile imagination. These brilliant novelists, most of them committed suicide, have minds that are too beautiful for us to understand. Their beauty are not for us to grasp and contain in our mortal minds.
Life imitates art. Most of their characters killed themselves. Like Brautigan's Margaret, INBOIL and his minions. Their are too beautiful to age and rot in this world of ours.
Richard Brautigan (1935-1984), born in Tacoma, Washington, wrote this novella only for around 60 days in 1964, the year I was born. However, this was only published in 1968. In Watermelon Sugar was his 3rd novel after he earlier got noticed with his first, A Confederate General From Big Sur and got catapulted to international fame with his second, Trout Fishing in America. These three books were published in the 60's at the height of Cold War, The Beatle's popularity, hippies and the Anti-Vietnam war movements. Brautigan was one of those young men who seemed to have been caught in the counterculture revolutions sweeping the youths in the 60's.
Like the other literary greats, Ernest Hemingway, Virginia Woolf, Sylvia Plath, Hunter S. Thompson and Yukio Mishima, Richard Brautigan also committed suicide. Like Hemingway, he shot himself in the head. He was 49 years old. Someone has said: their minds are just too beautiful to age and rot in this world.
To date, I have already read around 340 books. Still, my favorite is The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupery (1900-1944). I did not know exactly why. I first read it in elementary school when I was 8 years old but was not able to finish it. I still remember the elephant inside the boa constrictor and I was scared but I heard stories of snakes swallowing whole chicken so I did not see any metaphor or allusion on that. The next time I read it was when I was in college and it was the first required reading in our World's Literature class. That was when I appreciated the whole story as we were required to go through the plot, theme, characters, quotes, lessons, etc.
For me, In Watermelon Sugar is the continuation of The Little Prince. Surreal settings. Ethereal characters. It is as if the child-like characters of Saint-Exupery became real people, grew up but continued to live not on their individual planets but this time in a make-believe world where Watermelon Works, Forgotten Works and iDeath were. Unlike the Little Prince who does not grow up or old, in Brautigan's novella, his quirky characters are dark, fall in love, fall out of love, cheat, cook and eat breakfast and commit suicide. But after burying their dead, they go to the plaza and dance their sadness away.
Brautigan taught me why I like De Saint-Exupery: some novels were written by authors for themselves. Perhaps they just would like to test the limit of their creativity. Perhaps during those 60 days, creative thoughts came rushing through Brautigan's brilliant mind and he had to write them.
Some authors would just only want us to watch their characters. To wonder about them. To cheer for them. But not be them. Their worlds will never be ours and those characters could never be us. They are the figments of their creators' fertile imagination. These brilliant novelists, most of them committed suicide, have minds that are too beautiful for us to understand. Their beauty are not for us to grasp and contain in our mortal minds.
Life imitates art. Most of their characters killed themselves. Like Brautigan's Margaret, INBOIL and his minions. Their are too beautiful to age and rot in this world of ours.
December 19, 2019
Rustic Utopia
This is Richard Brautigan at his most sugar-coated and romantic.
"In Watermelon Sugar" has been described as a post-apocalyptic novel, although there's no express mention of an apocalypse in the text.
It's set in a rustic town or village that might be called Watermelon Sugar.
If anything, it's more Arcadian or Utopian, even if there is a dispute between the townsfolk, on the one hand, and inBoil and his no good gang of followers, on the other hand.
The Raw Materials
The novel abounds with lists of the raw materials from which it's constructed.
There are piney woods, fields of watermelons, stones and rivers full of trout. The townsfolk reduce watermelon juices down until they solidify into what they use as building materials like timber and glass. Roads lined with pines and stones lead to the limits of their dreams. There's no suggestion of a society beyond the town.
The townsfolk live in modest shacks on the edge of the village made out of pine, watermelon sugar and stones. They blend watermelon juice and trout oil to burn in their lanterns at night. We learn much about the workings of their society in the manner of Ursula LeGuin's "Always Coming Home", although in a shorter and much more lyrical style.
Margaret Versus Pauline
There's a large residence, refectory and restaurant called IDEATH, where Pauline works as a part-time cook. The anonymous narrator ("I am one of those who do not have a regular name. My name depends on you. Just call me whatever is in your mind.") has recently separated from Margaret, and started a relationship with Pauline (once a close friend of Margaret, who is now heartbroken). The narrator isn't overly concerned: "I wish Margaret would leave me alone." In Watermelon Sugar, he's kind, generous and well-liked. "I have a gentle life," he confides in us, though he's not quite a hippy. He attributes his happiness to Pauline.
Watermelon Sugar Book
The narrator is a writer and sculptor. He makes things out of watermelon sugar "including this book being written near iDEATH". In a subtle nod to meta-fiction, this book might be the novel we're reading.
The Time of the Tigers
The narrator measures the past in terms of statues, one of which was "made a long time ago in the time of the tigers." The tigers are now extinct, having been killed by townsfolk and hunters. "I was six years old when they killed the last one...They had beautiful voices." Twenty years ago, the tigers had killed and eaten the narrator's parents. Nevertheless, they reassured him, "We don't hurt children... We tigers are not evil. This is just a thing we have to do."
A Victim of the Forgotten Works
If there's anybody who's evil, it's inBOIL. He guards the Forgotten Works, and makes whiskey with the equipment he finds there. This whiskey proves to be the downfall of inBOIL and his gang, even if the rest of the townsfolk can't comprehend what transpired. The narrator forewarns us on page 9 "how quiet and nice things are around here now that they are dead."
SOUNDTRACK:
This is Richard Brautigan at his most sugar-coated and romantic.
"In Watermelon Sugar" has been described as a post-apocalyptic novel, although there's no express mention of an apocalypse in the text.
It's set in a rustic town or village that might be called Watermelon Sugar.
If anything, it's more Arcadian or Utopian, even if there is a dispute between the townsfolk, on the one hand, and inBoil and his no good gang of followers, on the other hand.
The Raw Materials
The novel abounds with lists of the raw materials from which it's constructed.
There are piney woods, fields of watermelons, stones and rivers full of trout. The townsfolk reduce watermelon juices down until they solidify into what they use as building materials like timber and glass. Roads lined with pines and stones lead to the limits of their dreams. There's no suggestion of a society beyond the town.
The townsfolk live in modest shacks on the edge of the village made out of pine, watermelon sugar and stones. They blend watermelon juice and trout oil to burn in their lanterns at night. We learn much about the workings of their society in the manner of Ursula LeGuin's "Always Coming Home", although in a shorter and much more lyrical style.
Margaret Versus Pauline
There's a large residence, refectory and restaurant called IDEATH, where Pauline works as a part-time cook. The anonymous narrator ("I am one of those who do not have a regular name. My name depends on you. Just call me whatever is in your mind.") has recently separated from Margaret, and started a relationship with Pauline (once a close friend of Margaret, who is now heartbroken). The narrator isn't overly concerned: "I wish Margaret would leave me alone." In Watermelon Sugar, he's kind, generous and well-liked. "I have a gentle life," he confides in us, though he's not quite a hippy. He attributes his happiness to Pauline.
Watermelon Sugar Book
The narrator is a writer and sculptor. He makes things out of watermelon sugar "including this book being written near iDEATH". In a subtle nod to meta-fiction, this book might be the novel we're reading.
The Time of the Tigers
The narrator measures the past in terms of statues, one of which was "made a long time ago in the time of the tigers." The tigers are now extinct, having been killed by townsfolk and hunters. "I was six years old when they killed the last one...They had beautiful voices." Twenty years ago, the tigers had killed and eaten the narrator's parents. Nevertheless, they reassured him, "We don't hurt children... We tigers are not evil. This is just a thing we have to do."
A Victim of the Forgotten Works
If there's anybody who's evil, it's inBOIL. He guards the Forgotten Works, and makes whiskey with the equipment he finds there. This whiskey proves to be the downfall of inBOIL and his gang, even if the rest of the townsfolk can't comprehend what transpired. The narrator forewarns us on page 9 "how quiet and nice things are around here now that they are dead."
SOUNDTRACK:
January 23, 2024
Thanks to my friend Nick for the tip on Richard Brautigan. I think I will stay here and relax for a while. Because relax you must, with Brautigan’s prose. His voice is just the most soothing, rock you to sleep treat. Can you “know” what is going when reading the book? Well, sure. To an extent. There is a utopian society called iDEATH. Or perhaps it’s more like a commune? It’s chill. We’re chill. We’re relaxed here, laid back. People don’t really do that weird reading thing over here. We just kick it. There are some trouts, and a couple of tiger statues, and of course, how can we forget, watermelon sugar. Watermelon sugar all around. We have food, and when Al makes it, it’s made up of too much carrot. When Pauline makes it, it’s so nice. Yum yum yummy stew. Also we fuck. Mmmmm, Pauline. Probably we are inspired by watermelon sugar.
October 6, 2017
كتاب فضاي خاصي داشت كه تا حالا در كتاب ديگري تجربه ش نكرده بودم... حس خوبي دارم بهش..
June 19, 2016
بعد از چند سال خوندن کتاب به این نتیجه رسیدم که بعضی از کتاب ها طعم دارن. این طعم کاملا از فضاسازی کتاب ناشی می شه. در قند هندوانه شیرینه؛ شیرینِ شیرین.
فارغ از این که براتیگان و سبک نوشتنش رو خیلی دوست دارم و به نظرم یکی از لطیف ترین، فانتزی ترین و بانمک ترین ذهنا رو داشته بین مردای نویسنده. همونطور که همه می دونن براتیگان عضو جنبش بیت بوده و آثارش جزو آثار پیرو مکتب پست مدرنیسم دسته بندی می شه و این توی شکل و ساختار نوشته هاش مشخصه و به نوعی توی این اثرش که نمی دونم دقیقا می شه رئالیسم جادویی به حسابش آورد یا نه، ویژگی دیدگاهی بیت ها و پست مدرنیست ها ملموسه.
قبل از این بگم که این کتاب مصداق بارز دنیای ذهنی خلق شده ی یه نویسنده است که کاملا زنده است. چیزی که بیشتر نویسنده های تازه کار در به کلام منتقل کردنش مشکل دارن و سعی می کنن این نقص رو با دادن جزئیات فراوان بصری رفع کنن. براتیگان اما دنیای خودش رو نه تنها توی ذهنش بلکه توی کتابش به صورت کاملی خلق کرده. نیازی هم نمی بینه که جزئیات فراوانی بده. تنها به دادن یک سری کلیات در ابتدا و بعد اشاره کردن به جزئیات مورد نیاز در سیر داستان تکه تکه و قدم به قدم بذر شهرش رو توی ذهن شما می کاره و درانتها می بینین که درشین. حتی آخر کتاب نمی خواین ازش بیاین بیرون. این نوع تبدیل فضای ذهنی به فضای عینی و قابل درک برای مخاطب یکی از مهم ترین هنرای براتیگان عزیزه. توی صیدقزل آلا در آمریکا، هیولای هاوکلاین و در رویای بابل هم این قدرت فضاسازی اش رو می تونین درک کنین.
این جا هم براتیگان شهر و جامعه ای متفاوت با هر چیزی که دیدین می آفرینه. شهری به اسم قند هندوانه با پیشنیه ای نیمه فراموش شده. شهری با تعداد کمی از مردم، رسومات خاص، شغل های خاص و تمام امور روزمره ی بدیع. توی این شهر آفتاب هر روز یه رنگه، مردم برای گرم کردن خودشون کتاب ها رو می سوزونن، چندین سال یک بار کسی پیدا می شه که بتونه یک کتاب بنویسه، بخشی از شهر رو کارگاه های فراموش شده با چیزهای فراموش شده که دیگه اسمشون هم معلوم نیست تشکیل می ده، جنازه ها رو توی تابوت های شیشه ای کف رودخونه کار می ذارن، ببرها صحبت می کنن، از قند هندوانه می شه روغن، شیشه و کلی چیزای دیگه ساخت و ...
نویسنده همراه با دنبال کردن ماجرای ساده ی خودش به بیانی ساده و موجز، در فصل های کوتاه و زیاد در ذهن شما دنیای دیگه ای رو خلق می کنه که می تونه به نوعی استعاری و نمادین در تضاد با دنیای عصر خودش باشه. حتی برخی صحنه هاش رو می شه هجوی از رفتارهای آدم ها توی اجتماع و دنیای جدید به حساب آورد.
به شخصه شیفته ی ایده ی تابوت های شیشه ای دفن شده در آب و روشناییشون در شب، مجسمه ی آینه ها، دختر موطلایی فانوس به دست شبگرد، کارگاه ها و چیزهای فراموش شده و روز خورشید سیاه و بی صدا شدم که از فکرم بیرون نمی رن. واقعا الهام بخشن.
"در قند هندوانه کارها می گذشت و باز هم می گذشت. هم چنان که عمرم می گذشت در قند هندوانه. درباره ی این موضوع برایتان می گویم چون من در این جایم و شما دور از آن."
فارغ از این که براتیگان و سبک نوشتنش رو خیلی دوست دارم و به نظرم یکی از لطیف ترین، فانتزی ترین و بانمک ترین ذهنا رو داشته بین مردای نویسنده. همونطور که همه می دونن براتیگان عضو جنبش بیت بوده و آثارش جزو آثار پیرو مکتب پست مدرنیسم دسته بندی می شه و این توی شکل و ساختار نوشته هاش مشخصه و به نوعی توی این اثرش که نمی دونم دقیقا می شه رئالیسم جادویی به حسابش آورد یا نه، ویژگی دیدگاهی بیت ها و پست مدرنیست ها ملموسه.
قبل از این بگم که این کتاب مصداق بارز دنیای ذهنی خلق شده ی یه نویسنده است که کاملا زنده است. چیزی که بیشتر نویسنده های تازه کار در به کلام منتقل کردنش مشکل دارن و سعی می کنن این نقص رو با دادن جزئیات فراوان بصری رفع کنن. براتیگان اما دنیای خودش رو نه تنها توی ذهنش بلکه توی کتابش به صورت کاملی خلق کرده. نیازی هم نمی بینه که جزئیات فراوانی بده. تنها به دادن یک سری کلیات در ابتدا و بعد اشاره کردن به جزئیات مورد نیاز در سیر داستان تکه تکه و قدم به قدم بذر شهرش رو توی ذهن شما می کاره و درانتها می بینین که درشین. حتی آخر کتاب نمی خواین ازش بیاین بیرون. این نوع تبدیل فضای ذهنی به فضای عینی و قابل درک برای مخاطب یکی از مهم ترین هنرای براتیگان عزیزه. توی صیدقزل آلا در آمریکا، هیولای هاوکلاین و در رویای بابل هم این قدرت فضاسازی اش رو می تونین درک کنین.
این جا هم براتیگان شهر و جامعه ای متفاوت با هر چیزی که دیدین می آفرینه. شهری به اسم قند هندوانه با پیشنیه ای نیمه فراموش شده. شهری با تعداد کمی از مردم، رسومات خاص، شغل های خاص و تمام امور روزمره ی بدیع. توی این شهر آفتاب هر روز یه رنگه، مردم برای گرم کردن خودشون کتاب ها رو می سوزونن، چندین سال یک بار کسی پیدا می شه که بتونه یک کتاب بنویسه، بخشی از شهر رو کارگاه های فراموش شده با چیزهای فراموش شده که دیگه اسمشون هم معلوم نیست تشکیل می ده، جنازه ها رو توی تابوت های شیشه ای کف رودخونه کار می ذارن، ببرها صحبت می کنن، از قند هندوانه می شه روغن، شیشه و کلی چیزای دیگه ساخت و ...
نویسنده همراه با دنبال کردن ماجرای ساده ی خودش به بیانی ساده و موجز، در فصل های کوتاه و زیاد در ذهن شما دنیای دیگه ای رو خلق می کنه که می تونه به نوعی استعاری و نمادین در تضاد با دنیای عصر خودش باشه. حتی برخی صحنه هاش رو می شه هجوی از رفتارهای آدم ها توی اجتماع و دنیای جدید به حساب آورد.
به شخصه شیفته ی ایده ی تابوت های شیشه ای دفن شده در آب و روشناییشون در شب، مجسمه ی آینه ها، دختر موطلایی فانوس به دست شبگرد، کارگاه ها و چیزهای فراموش شده و روز خورشید سیاه و بی صدا شدم که از فکرم بیرون نمی رن. واقعا الهام بخشن.
"در قند هندوانه کارها می گذشت و باز هم می گذشت. هم چنان که عمرم می گذشت در قند هندوانه. درباره ی این موضوع برایتان می گویم چون من در این جایم و شما دور از آن."
May 28, 2022
می‌خوام مقایسه‌ای بکنم که شاید بی‌نهایت بی‌ربطه، ولی از دیشب که این کتاب رو زمین گذاشتم رهام نکرده. فضای این کتاب به شدت من رو یاد «عزداران بَیَل» غلامحسین ساعدی انداخت
در هر دو محیط کوچکی توصیف میشه که در اون بعضی از قوانین طبیعی و چیزهای معمول اصلا وجود ندارند. در بَیَل خانه‌ها در ندارند و در آیدِث همه چیز از قند هندوانه ساخته شده و خورشید هر روز یک رنگ می‌تابه
در هر دو جامعه‌ای کوچک داریم که انسان‌هاش به طرز غریبی به هم تنیده شدن. در بَیَل کار هیچکس درست و حسابی معلوم نیست و در آیدِث بعضی از مردم بی‌کارند و بعضی شغل‌های عجیب دارند. در هر دو آدم‌ها دائم دور هم جمع میشن و به طرز غریبی در حالی که باهمند انگار به هم اونقدر نزدیک نیستند
در هر دو اتفاق‌های عجیب و هولناکی می‌افته. خودکشی دسته‌جمعی، مسخ شدن و مرگ. تا دلتون بخواد مرگ و تباهی‌ای که انگار بی‌دلیل یا قابل جلوگیریه
درسته که دنیای براتیگان شیرین‌‌تره، خیالی‌تره و خلاق‌تره. درسته که دنیای ساعدی تلخ‌تر، سیاه‌تر و واقعی‌تره. ولی انگار هر نویسنده ورژنی از جهان خودش رو نوشته. آیدِث براتیگان اول و آخر از روی غرب و بَیَل ساعدی از خاورمیانه-ایران مدل شده
اما
با اینکه جملات ریتمیک و ساده‌ی براتیگان رو دوست داشتم و تخیل دیوانه‌وارش رو تحسین می‌کنم، نتونستم با این کتاب ارتباط برقرار کنم. دیگه این رو پذیرفتم که نمی‌تونم یک کتاب رو صرف فرم دوست داشته باشم و به معنا توجه نکنم. نه که در این کتاب داستان هیچ معنایی نداره، اما برای من معنی »
زیادی نداره. اگر قراره نویسنده من رو در یک دنیای غریب گم کنه، اونجا باید چیزی پیدا کنم. درست مثل کتاب عزاداران بَیَل
پ.ن: اصلاً چی نوشتم؟
۱۴۰۱/۳/۷
در هر دو محیط کوچکی توصیف میشه که در اون بعضی از قوانین طبیعی و چیزهای معمول اصلا وجود ندارند. در بَیَل خانه‌ها در ندارند و در آیدِث همه چیز از قند هندوانه ساخته شده و خورشید هر روز یک رنگ می‌تابه
در هر دو جامعه‌ای کوچک داریم که انسان‌هاش به طرز غریبی به هم تنیده شدن. در بَیَل کار هیچکس درست و حسابی معلوم نیست و در آیدِث بعضی از مردم بی‌کارند و بعضی شغل‌های عجیب دارند. در هر دو آدم‌ها دائم دور هم جمع میشن و به طرز غریبی در حالی که باهمند انگار به هم اونقدر نزدیک نیستند
در هر دو اتفاق‌های عجیب و هولناکی می‌افته. خودکشی دسته‌جمعی، مسخ شدن و مرگ. تا دلتون بخواد مرگ و تباهی‌ای که انگار بی‌دلیل یا قابل جلوگیریه
درسته که دنیای براتیگان شیرین‌‌تره، خیالی‌تره و خلاق‌تره. درسته که دنیای ساعدی تلخ‌تر، سیاه‌تر و واقعی‌تره. ولی انگار هر نویسنده ورژنی از جهان خودش رو نوشته. آیدِث براتیگان اول و آخر از روی غرب و بَیَل ساعدی از خاورمیانه-ایران مدل شده
اما
با اینکه جملات ریتمیک و ساده‌ی براتیگان رو دوست داشتم و تخیل دیوانه‌وارش رو تحسین می‌کنم، نتونستم با این کتاب ارتباط برقرار کنم. دیگه این رو پذیرفتم که نمی‌تونم یک کتاب رو صرف فرم دوست داشته باشم و به معنا توجه نکنم. نه که در این کتاب داستان هیچ معنایی نداره، اما برای من معنی »
زیادی نداره. اگر قراره نویسنده من رو در یک دنیای غریب گم کنه، اونجا باید چیزی پیدا کنم. درست مثل کتاب عزاداران بَیَل
پ.ن: اصلاً چی نوشتم؟
۱۴۰۱/۳/۷
August 1, 2016
هیچ‌وقت نباید کارهای یه نویسنده رو از آخر به اول خوند. ممکنه آدم مأیوس شه. حتا ممکنه فراموش کنه همه‌ی لحظه‌های لذت‌بخشی که با کتابای خوب نویسنده‌ی محبوبش داشته. برای من براتیگان نویسنده‌ایه که نه به اندازه‌ی ونه‌گات ولی تا حدود زیادی می‌تونم با کتاب‌هاش خوش باشم. این کتاب اما از نظر چفت‌وبست محکم نبود. صدای جیرجیر لولاهاش به گوش می‌رسید و ترجمه‌اش به شدت افتضاح بود که البته مورد آخر به براتیگان مربوط نیست. با این‌حال فکر می‌کنم که اصلا نباید این کتاب رو می‌خوندم.
February 24, 2022
this did not taste like strawberries on a summer evening.
April 9, 2021
watermelon sugar HIGH mesmo, pq só estando mt doidão pra gostar desse livro. ruim demais, harry styles VC ME PAGA
January 8, 2024
شبیه رویاست، رویایی دور دست، یک رویای جوانی، رویایی پاک، رویایی که لطیفه، مثل قند در هندوانه.
توی دهنت آب میشه و شیرینیش به دل میشینه.
رویایی که به شدت آشناست ولی به شدت غیرقابل لمس. انگار قبلا درونش زندگی کردی یا توی خواب دیدیش. ولی هرچقدر فکر میکنی به یادت نمیاد.
در روز اول ۲۰۲۴ مینویسم که «برتیگان» به لیست نویسنده‌های موردعلاقه‌م پیوست.
با سادگی‌ای که داشت دلم رو برد.
فکر کنم این یکی از خصلت‌های افراد پیچیده‌ست که عاشق سادگی‌ها میشن درحالی که همه‌ش دلشون میخواد توی دردسر پیچیدگی‌ها شنا کنند.
ولی «قند در هندوانه» برام اون ساحل امن بود. اینکه بعد یه مدت گذاشتم رها بمونه، انتظاراتم رو ازش کم کردم، دیگه منتظر نبودم اتفاق خارق‌العاده‌ای رخ بده، انتظار نداشتم آی‌دت روی سرشون خراب بشه، انتظار نداشتم آدم‌های شهر انقلاب کنند،. انتظاراتم رو آوردم پایین و توی اون ساحل امن قدم زدم و به شدت لذت بردم. آروم شدم و این کتاب خیلی بهم چسبید.
[ بیاین از کتاب انتظار نداشته باشیم ]
توی دهنت آب میشه و شیرینیش به دل میشینه.
رویایی که به شدت آشناست ولی به شدت غیرقابل لمس. انگار قبلا درونش زندگی کردی یا توی خواب دیدیش. ولی هرچقدر فکر میکنی به یادت نمیاد.
در روز اول ۲۰۲۴ مینویسم که «برتیگان» به لیست نویسنده‌های موردعلاقه‌م پیوست.
با سادگی‌ای که داشت دلم رو برد.
فکر کنم این یکی از خصلت‌های افراد پیچیده‌ست که عاشق سادگی‌ها میشن درحالی که همه‌ش دلشون میخواد توی دردسر پیچیدگی‌ها شنا کنند.
ولی «قند در هندوانه» برام اون ساحل امن بود. اینکه بعد یه مدت گذاشتم رها بمونه، انتظاراتم رو ازش کم کردم، دیگه منتظر نبودم اتفاق خارق‌العاده‌ای رخ بده، انتظار نداشتم آی‌دت روی سرشون خراب بشه، انتظار نداشتم آدم‌های شهر انقلاب کنند،. انتظاراتم رو آوردم پایین و توی اون ساحل امن قدم زدم و به شدت لذت بردم. آروم شدم و این کتاب خیلی بهم چسبید.
[ بیاین از کتاب انتظار نداشته باشیم ]
June 16, 2007
a friend and I read this book aloud to one another in the hallway of a dilapidated residence hotel over a few hours. after whcih, whatever was broken in my imagination was amiably mended..
November 23, 2016
به کتاب و نویسنده مشهورش بی احترامی نمی کنم، ولی یقیناً این کتابی نیست که دلم بخواد یک بار دیگه بخونمش. سوررئالیسمِ به کار ر فته در کتاب به شدت "شخصی" ـه. منظورم از صفت "شخصی" اینه که مثلاً من از بچگی یا نوجوونی یه فانتزی ای توی سَرم از یه مکان یا پدیده ای داشته ـم، فانتزی ای که کاملاً خودجوش و خودساخته توی ذهنم به وجود اومده و فقط و فقط برای خودم جذاب و هیجان انگیزه. اگه این فانتزی رو برای شما تعریف کنم یا ازش داستان بنویسم، شاید خواننده از خوندنش لذت نبره، چون این فانتزی برای اون شخص، رنگ و لعابی که برای "شخص" من داره رو نخواهد داشت
از طرفی، برداشت شخصیم اینه که کلیدواژه های به کار رفته توی داستان خوب پرداخته نشده ـن. مثلاً خواننده باید با این پیش فرض شروع به خوندن داستان کنه که در دنیایی زندگی می کنه که به جز معدود چیزهایی، همه چیز از جنس "قند هندوانه" ساخته شده. من به عنوان یه خواننده همش با این انگیزه کتاب رو ادامه می دادم که بفهمم قضیه این قند هندوانه چیه و تازه بعد از اواسط کتاب بود که متوجه شدم قرار نیست راجع به این "قند هندوانه" توضیحی داده بشه. "قند هندوانه" یک پیش فرضه و باید بپذیریدش
نکته بعدی، دو اسم پر کاربرد در کتاب،:
IDEATH & inBOIL
بود. از اون جایی که بخشی از این دو اسم دارای معنی بود (دث) و (بویل)، من همش به این فکر می کردم که یه رابطه ای بین اسمشون و اتفاقاتی که براشون رخ می داده یا رخ داده یا رخ خواهد داد، هست. حتی زمانی که دار و دسته این-بویل به آی-دث اومدن و دسته جمعی خودکشی کردن، این ظن در من تقویت شد که آی-دث و "مرگ" داره یه رابطه هایی با هم پیدا می کنه، ولی توی ترجمه به خوبی این رابطه پرداخته نشده. ولی وقتی کتاب رو تموم کردم، ریویوهای انگلیسی رو خوندم و توی هیچکدومشون حرفی از وجود این رابطه زده نشده بود و در نتیجه مترجم بی تقصیر بود
در هر حال، از این کتاب خوشم نیومد و البته وِیست آو تایم هم نبود. حداقل باعث شد دور ریچارد براتیگان رو خط بکشم
از طرفی، برداشت شخصیم اینه که کلیدواژه های به کار رفته توی داستان خوب پرداخته نشده ـن. مثلاً خواننده باید با این پیش فرض شروع به خوندن داستان کنه که در دنیایی زندگی می کنه که به جز معدود چیزهایی، همه چیز از جنس "قند هندوانه" ساخته شده. من به عنوان یه خواننده همش با این انگیزه کتاب رو ادامه می دادم که بفهمم قضیه این قند هندوانه چیه و تازه بعد از اواسط کتاب بود که متوجه شدم قرار نیست راجع به این "قند هندوانه" توضیحی داده بشه. "قند هندوانه" یک پیش فرضه و باید بپذیریدش
نکته بعدی، دو اسم پر کاربرد در کتاب،:
IDEATH & inBOIL
بود. از اون جایی که بخشی از این دو اسم دارای معنی بود (دث) و (بویل)، من همش به این فکر می کردم که یه رابطه ای بین اسمشون و اتفاقاتی که براشون رخ می داده یا رخ داده یا رخ خواهد داد، هست. حتی زمانی که دار و دسته این-بویل به آی-دث اومدن و دسته جمعی خودکشی کردن، این ظن در من تقویت شد که آی-دث و "مرگ" داره یه رابطه هایی با هم پیدا می کنه، ولی توی ترجمه به خوبی این رابطه پرداخته نشده. ولی وقتی کتاب رو تموم کردم، ریویوهای انگلیسی رو خوندم و توی هیچکدومشون حرفی از وجود این رابطه زده نشده بود و در نتیجه مترجم بی تقصیر بود
در هر حال، از این کتاب خوشم نیومد و البته وِیست آو تایم هم نبود. حداقل باعث شد دور ریچارد براتیگان رو خط بکشم
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