Read Aš ateisiu nusispjauti ant jūsų kapų by Boris Vian Nijolė Storyk Online

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Knyga pasižymi juodu beveik absurdišku humoru. Amerikos realybė joje šaržuota ir niūri. Merginos \"dulkinasi kaip triušiai\", o pagrindinis veikėjas patiria ekstazę prievartaudamas baltasias merginas. Taip jis keršija už nulinčiuoto savo mažojo broliuko žūtį....

Title : Aš ateisiu nusispjauti ant jūsų kapų
Author :
Rating :
ISBN : 8498197112
Format Type : Hardcover
Number of Pages : 91 Pages
Status : Available For Download
Last checked : 21 Minutes ago!

Aš ateisiu nusispjauti ant jūsų kapų Reviews

  • Manny
    2019-04-08 15:15

    I'm afraid I found this book rather revolting. It is meant to be read ironically at some level (at least, it is widely claimed that that's the correct interpretation), but to me it came across more as sadistic pornography. Though the author was, as usual, very inventive. He wrote the book in French, but claimed it was a translation of an American thriller written by a hitherto unknown black author; the book, Vian said, couldn't be published in the US because the story involved a black hero who seduces and finally kills two white women in a particularly horrible way. The text is cleverly mangled so that it indeed appears to have been translated from English.The book was a bestseller, but destroyed poor Vian. First he got fined 100,000 Francs when someone committed a rape/murder similar to the one in J'irai cracher, and the court found that he was partly responsible. Then he had a fatal heart attack while watching the premiere of the very bad movie version, which he disowned - among other things, they had pasted on a happy ending, despite the fact that it is structurally a Greek tragedy. His last words were something like "Those assholes are never Americans", and he keeled over. He was only 40. The streak of bad luck continued even after his death. The producers of Day of the Woman, claimed by Roger Ebert to be one of the most nauseating films of all time, decided to rename it after Vian's book, despite the fact that there were almost no points of contact beyond the fact that both were deranged rape/revenge fantasies. Vian disliked the first movie enough to die rather than watch it to the end, and he would almost certainly have disliked the second one even more.I feel this story needs a moral, but have no idea what it might be! Maybe some insightful person can point it out?

  • karen
    2019-04-11 22:12

    s'allright. this isnt a style of writing i respond well to, i suppose. i didnt find it shocking or revolutionary with my today-eyes, and it was clear what was going to happen, and then it happened, and then the book was over. eh.

  • Ken
    2019-04-14 17:11

    When Jean d’ Halluin first published I Spit On Your Graves in 1946, he was looking for a bestseller to kickstart his new imprint, Editions du Scorpion. Written by an African-American writer named Vernon Sullivan, the book was a visceral, often misogynistic, and (once it gets rolling) violent pulp novel offering a gritty commentary on racial injustice in the United States. The plot centered on Lee Anderson, a light skinned black man seeking revenge for the murder of his brother at the hands of whites. Anderson, takes his revenge by infiltrating southern society as a white man (he has light skin and blond hair), bedding every white woman he can, and ultimately selecting two of those women to murder as payback for his brother’s death. Despite being considered too controversial and subversive for U.S. publishers, the French public devoured the novel. By 1947, it outsold work by Sartre and Camus, giving d’ Halluin the bestseller he craved.That alone would’ve made for interesting literary history. But there was more to the story…Vernon Sullivan never tried to have the book published in the United States.Vernon Sullivan did not exist. I Spit On Your Graves was in fact written by a Frenchman. A white Frenchman. Said Frenchman had never actually visited the United States.Then there was the law suit filed against the author by Cartel d’action sociale et morale, the same right wing organization that tried to censor the work of Henry Miller.Last but not least, there was the grisly murder committed by a Parisian man who strangled his mistress. The authorities discovered a copy of I Spit On Your Graves at the scene of the crime with a part where Lee Anderson dispatches one of his victims circled. Hence its bestseller status. Who didn’t want to read the “murder book,” as the introduction Marc Lapprand calls it?And then of course, there was the bigger question: what if the book was not about racial injustice at all?On the surface, I Spit On Your Graves is a pulpy, not expertly written tale of murder and sex. And upon first reading, I Spit On Your Graves comes across as that – a cheap pulp mystery, lacking only the cover illustration of a woman screaming, hands raised against her face, as an unseen stalker comes at her with a knife.It is overflowing with graphic sex (for its time) where Lee takes the female characters in every scenario imaginable (barring midgets and donkeys). At first one would take it as a sub-par Tropic of Cancer, except that the reader’s knowledge of Lee’s racial identity gives the book a taboo that is non-existent in Miller’s novels. Lee gets his hands on every white woman he possibly can, and they are all too willing to be taken, even if they don’t admit it at first (as is the case with Lou Asquith). As Lee relates early on in the story, “I had all the girls, one after the other, but it was a bit too easy, it turned my stomach.” It comes off like a line from a 70s Blaxploitation film. And in many ways, I Spit On Your Graves reads like a Blaxploitation script. However, as the book goes on Lee flips from bragging of his conquests to being disgusted at how far he has sunk to achieve his revenge. He becomes increasingly sickened by his seduction of the Asquith girls and this drives him further towards the violent outcome.And that is where the book starts to turn from pure pulp sadism and gratuitous sex into a more layered, psychological exploration. We know Lee is seeking revenge. We know he is going to kill. It is only a matter of time and the reader is forced to travel down the road, dragged further and further into Lee’s madness, strapped in, unable to change the course.Keep in mind, Vian was no pulp writer. He was a contemporary of Sartre and Camus, who wrote the incredibly well received Froth on the Daydream (also translated as Foam of the Daze). He was also a translator, poet, music, critic, and jazz musician who was close with Duke Ellington and Miles Davis. In many ways, it is similar to Brett Easton Ellis’ American Psycho, forcing you to see the world of the book through the eyes of a very twisted and violent narrator. We immediately find ourselves repulsed by the narrator’s narcissism, their ruthlessness, and most importantly their penchant for extremely grisly acts. And yet, it is this grotesque, amped, psychotic, bloodthirsty humanity that captivates us. I’m not the first person to make such a comparison between these two books. However, there is a major difference between them. Whereas Ellis was satirizing society, specifically the Reagan-worshipping stockbrokers of the 80s, Vian was going deeper – he was satirizing publishing and ultimately, the reader.After all, sex and murder were rampant in novels published circa 1946. Both are still widely used as devices and plot points today. In fact, one could argue that both are necessary lynchpins of all modern literature. Sex and death is what it’s all about. The book is so overly violent and misogynist because Vian is parodying pulp writing, a form very prevalent in post-war France when he wrote I Spit On Your Graves. Like Swift’s A Modest Proposal, it takes the argument to its fullest extreme, giving readers the ultimate in literary-noir: a story so extremely violent and disgusting to modern thinking that the reader can’t put it down.Much has been said about the social commentary perceived within I Spit On Your Graves. Of this one can look literally. Lee, a black man who’s brother was murdered by whites, seeks revenge by wreaking havoc on white society. In the end however, without giving anything away, there is no justice for Lee. So it is easy to see I Spit On Your Graves as a biting commentary on racial injustice in America during the 20th Century. But in many ways, Vian is still having his fun with us. After all, he’s not trying to convince us that Lee is an unfortunate character of racial injustice that we should pity. He’s getting us to hate Lee Anderson in spite of his quest for justice. After all, Vian’s audience was white, educated, French society. And it is Lee’s racial identity, his status as ‘black’ that made (and still makes the book) so controversial. If Lee was a white man bedding a bunch of women and then murdering two of them, it would be a Harry Crews novel. Vian however spins the tables, serving up a tale of a violent, lustful black man out for revenge, one that horrifies and yet draws us in, convincing a repulsed and outraged public to keep on reading. Ultimately the joke is on us. We are thinking of racial injustice, clinging to the social message seemingly contained within the book, and yet it is the titillating bits – the sex and death – that keep us reading. Swift would’ve been proud.

  • Deniz Balcı
    2019-04-05 15:10

    Irkçılık eleştirisi yaparken "penis"i merkez olarak almış yazar. Bir eleştirmen ortakgörüsü olarak edebiyata kısır olan Mezarlarınıza Tüküreceğim, bana göre gücünü sadeliğinden alıyor. İthaki Yayınlarından okuduğum kitabın, bu çevirisi çok özensiz. Ayaküstü onlarca hata bulabilirsiniz. Kitaba balta indirmiş. Bu kadar baskı yapmış bir kitap neden bir editör tarafından düzeltilmez anlamıyorum. O yüzden kitabın çevirisinden bir kat daha iyi bir anlatıma sahip olduğunu söyleyebiliriz.

  • Anastasia
    2019-04-22 18:31

    4.5/5Mi piace toccare questa copertina, è così liscia. Hmmm. Ehm, sì, siamo in onda. Coff.Ho finito ieri a letto questo caro libretto con un bel po' di sonno addosso e una certa enfasi da fine lettura. Ero lì che mi dicevo "no, no, si merita il massimo dei voti, è grandioso". Poi il giorno dopo, in piena lucidità mentale, ho guardato me stessa con sconcertamento. Ma sei scema?! Ma come ha fatto solo a passarti per l'anticamera del cervello?!Per la serie "dormiamoci sopra". E' un buon libro, ma ritengo che se ti devi scervellare fin troppo per deciderti a dare un cinque o un quattro, vuol dire che non vale il massimo. Se do 5/5, vengo qua e come un treno riempio queste belle stelline. Con certezza, ad occhi chiusi. Senza parlare troppo a vanvera, arriviamo dritto al punto: Sputerò sulle vostre tombe (no, non vi sto minacciando). Titolo perversamente attraente e principale motivo per cui l'ho preso con molta nonchalance dalla libreria di famiglia. Di sicuro la perversione non si ferma solo alla copertina, ma va ben oltre. E' perverso dall'inizio alla fine. Basta pensare al protagonista. Lee Anderson è quasi inquietante, non ho mai incontrato un personaggio così arrapato in vita mia. Anzi, forse è meglio avvisare che tre quarti del libro sono scene di sesso. La cosa potrebbe dar fastidio, ma sono sempre dosate e funzionali allo scopo della storia. Se la cosa in sé vi disturba, allora lasciate perdere la storia, potrebbe alterarvi fino all'inverosimile. Che a suo tempo fu censurato e bandito dalle librerie perché "troppo scandaloso" è comprensibile. Anche ai giorni d'oggi si troverebbe qualcosa da ridire. Il filo conduttore del libro è la vendetta di Lee verso la gioventù della borghesia razzista, in seguito a qualcosa di misterioso che non vi svelo. Il comportamento di Lee è altamente discutibile nel suo senso morale, lo ammetto. La vendetta è sempre altamente discutibile, e questo tipo in particolare è perfino accusabile. Però io non credo che Vian voglia dirci "fare sesso con delle quindicenni è giusto, prendete esempio!". Ci mancherebbe, l'autore di una delle più celebri canzoni contro la guerra di sicuro non avrebbe mai intenzione di comunicare una cosa del genere. Non conosco purtroppo il vero Vian, non credo proprio che questo libro sveli la sua personalità. Non so neanche se l'intento fosse quello della provocazione. Consideriamo anche il fatto che è stato scritto per scommessa in quindici giorni, e si fonda anche su un plot vagamente thriller/giallo. Quindi non punta a niente di filosofico o altro. Lo stesso Lee si definisce con termini poco gentili, segno che è consapevole di quanto siano poco giuste le sue intenzioni. E' semplicemente arrabbiato. Uno di quelli che ha in sé un po' di cinismo, menefreghismo e misantropia.Si parla di una gioventù bruciata? No, di più. Qui il fuoco si è già consumato in tutte le sue fiamme, abbiamo solo le ceneri. Al confronto noi siamo degli angioletti. Una borghese gioventù stupida, superficiale, perversa e senza morale. Lee solletica spudorataemente questi figlioletti di papà, tirando fuori tutto il loro lato "oscuro". Questa voglia matta di "provare a fare quella cosa", nascosta per bene nei modi riservati e altezzosi, nei profumi francesi addosso. I genitori che puntualmente non sanno nulla delle avventure notturne dei loro figli, sigarette in mano e vestiti esageratamente scollati per attirare e alimentare la voglia di trasgredire. L'elemento che fa tenere incollati alle pagine è questa vendetta, che si mantiene bene per tutto il tempo. Anche se il finale non mi è andato a genio, troppo veloce e c'è poco godimento. Chi ha letto capirà cosa voglio dire, non è niente di sconcio. :D "Boris Vian (Ville d'Avray 1920 - Parigi 1959), laureato in ingegneria, appassionato fin da giovanissimo di letteratura, scrisse romanzi, poesie, libretti, drammi e canzoni (tra cui celeberrima è Le déserteur, cantata in italiano anche da Ornella Vanoni e Ivano Fossati). Fu anche attore, ballerino, musicista (appassionato di jazz, ha suonato la tromba con Duke Ellington e Miles Davis), critico musicale, giornalista, inventore, soggettista cinematografico."Posso dire una cosa? ...Meeeenghia!

  • Francisco H. González
    2019-04-07 15:30

    Si Boris Vian quería escandalizar al personal, es muy posible que con este libro lo consiguiese, cuando lo publicó en 1946, por lo que tiene de macabro su resolución. El protagonista es un joven que oficia como librero, al tiempo que se acuesta con cuenta joven se cruza a su paso, pues todas parecen desear el sexo tanto como él. Pero lo que Lee quiere, más allá de irse por la vía seminal, es pergeñar su venganza.A su hermano lo mataron unos blancos, por ser negro, y él se quiere vengar. Tiene un plan, que pasa por camelarse a dos jóvenes blancas, ricas y guapas, a las que tras embaucar hasta el punto de dejar a una embarazada y a la otra loca de amor, matar a sangre fría, con toda la violencia imaginable, para al tiempo correrse sobre ellas, pues esa violencia no hace otra cosa que excitarlo. La historia se estructura en dos partes. Una con lo que mueve a Lee a actuar así y lo que sucede una vez que las cartas están ya sobre la mesa, y barruntamos el final de las dos jóvenes. Prima la sordidez, tanto en las relaciones sexuales, marcadas por el primitivismo, como en el resto de sus actos.Las frases son cortas y directas. Vian, firmó esta obra con el seudónimo de Vernon Sullivan. Loa a la violencia más exacerbada, como plasmación de una venganza. Una historia desagradable y desasosegante.

  • Azumi
    2019-04-18 22:08

    La historia es una espiral de violencia, venganza, sexo y alcohol sin nada de relleno y contada sin tapujos.Hay escenas francamente muy duras. Es un libro impactante e incómodo de leer, que provoca rechazo y no deja indiferente. Supongo que eso es precisamente lo que buscaba Boris Vian.

  • Rıdvan
    2019-04-13 18:08

    Tek kelimeyle muhteşem bir kitap.Şimdi efenim bu kitapla ilgili ilk söyleyeceğim şey şudur ki; yahu Boris Vian gibi biri böyle bir kitabı nasıl yazmış olabilir. Zira "Günlerin Köpüğü" gibi romantik bir kitabı yazmış bir adamdan aynı zamanda böylesine vahşi bir kitap nasıl çıkar. Elbette ki yazar taifesi biz normal insanlardan farklıdır. Farklı düşünür, farklı hissederler. Böyle de olmaları beklenir. Nitekim ancak böyleleri bu tarz sanatsal faaliyetlerde bulunabilirler. Tamam bu bir yere kadar anlaşılır. Bizden farklı elbette Vian. Ancak kendi kendisinden de farklılaşıyor. Zaten yayınlanır yayınlanmaz yasaklı neşriat kapsamına alınan bu kitabı kendiside Vernon Sullivan mahlasıyla yazmış. yani gerçekten kendisinden de farklılaşmış. Enteresan. Ama şu kadarını söyleyeyim bu kitap super. Eee şey. Bir de fena halde +18. Kitap boyunca yüksek yoğunlukta cinsellikle karşılaşıyoruz. Kitabı özetlemeden once hemen şunuda söyleyeyim ki, bu kitabın benim henüz seyretmediğim bir de filmi çekilmiş. Boris Vian'da bu filmin galasında yer almış. 12 yaşından beri kalp problemleriyle uğraşan Vian bu filmin galası sırasında yaşadığı bir kalp krizi sonucunda da 39 yaşında hayata gözlerini yummuş. İnsanın dünyada izlediği son şeyin "Mezarlarınıza Tüküreceğim" olmasıda şaşırtıcı:)Efenim kitapta bir genç başrolde. 20'li yaşlarının 2. yarısında olduğunu tahmin ediyoruz. Vian bize bütün bilgileri hemencecik verivermiyor. Hikaye bir yandan devam ederken bir yandan da bu genç kardeşimizi tanıyoruz ki adının Lee olduğunu bile neredeyse kitabın ortasında öğreniyoruz. Sonrasında öğrendiğimiz şeyler ise Lee'nin 8 'de 1'inin zenci olduğu, babasının zenci annesinin beyaz olduğu, bir kardeşinin ten renginden dolayı ırkçı köpekler tarafından hunharca öldürüldüğü, diger abisi Tom'unsa şehri terketmek zorunda kaldığı. Onlar Lee kadar şanslı değiller. Lee allahın hikmeti dışarıdan bakıldığında anlaşılacak kadar zenci değil. Herkes onu "beyaz" zannediyor. O ise intikam ateşiyle yanıp tutuşan bir zenci. Şehrin zengin züppelerine takılıyor. Öldürülen kardeşinin intikamını aklı sıra zengin beyaz kızlarla defalarca beraber olarak, gerekirse tecavüz ederek, en sonunda da onları öldürerek alacak. Bu durumda kitap boyunca türlü vahşetlere tanıklık ediyoruz. Örneğin 12 yaşında bir kızcağızla para karşılığı beraber oluyor Lee, ki elimden kitabı fırlatıp attım. Devam edebilmek için kendimi çok zorlamam gerekti.En sonunda 21 yaşında zengin ailelerden birinin kızını hamile bırakıyor. O kızın kardeşini ve ardından da o kızı karnında çocuğuyla beraber öldürüyor. Hemde elleriyle parçalayarak, tekmeleyerek. Hala anlamıyorum bu kitabı yazacak ne yaşadı Vian. Okumak gerek bu kitabı. Kitabın sonun da ben Lee' ye kesinlikle kızmadım. Kızamadm. Vian buna müsaade etmemiş. Bir hayvan yaratayımda türlü türlü çirkinlikler yaptırayımda herkeslerde ondan nefret etsin sonrada onu öldüreyim 'i yazacak kadar basit bir yazar değil. Lee 'ye çok acıyorum. Hatta arkasından yas tutuyorum. Tabi diğer iki kızında. Yazık. Çok yazık oldu.

  • Teresa Proença
    2019-03-28 21:20

    Boris Vian nasceu em França em 1920. Foi um homem de “sete ofícios”: engenheiro, tradutor, actor, cantor, compositor, poeta, dramaturgo, romancista. Mas foi na música e na literatura que obteve maior notoriedade. Foi trompetista numa banda de jazz e algumas das canções que compôs fazem parte do património cultural francês. Na escrita tem um estilo muito próprio, identificado como surrealista e anarquista. Morreu aos 39 anos, de enfarte do miocárdio, durante os primeiros minutos da visualização do filme, inspirado no seu romance Irei Cuspir-vos Nos Túmulos, e escrito sobre o pseudónimo de Vernon Sullivan.Até meio do livro, Vian vai entretendo o leitor com muito sexo - a toda a hora, em todo o lado, com qualquer pessoa, em qualquer sítio - enquanto, subtilmente, vai levantando o véu de sobre o rosto do monstro que está na origem da catástrofe que se avizinha: o Racismo. A partir do meio, começa a maltratar-nos desviando as cenas de sexo, do que é natural, para a perversidade da prostituição e pedofilia. E, em crescendo, vai aumentando a violência até um clímax de vingança, loucura e morte cuja leitura se me tornou quase intolerável. “Julgava que, praticando o bem, colhia o bem, esquecendo-se de que, quando isso acontece, é só por acaso. Só uma coisa conta, que é vingarmo-nos e vingarmo-nos da forma mais completa.”

  • Lady-R
    2019-04-15 20:09

    Una historia de venganza movida por el odio consecuencia del racismo bestialmente imperante en la USA de la época, abordada de una forma brutal, sórdida, extrema, incluso grotesca.Con un estilo directo, explícito y extremo, se lee en un rato y no te deja indiferente.

  • knig
    2019-04-03 22:30

    The deep American South in the 1940s as per Boris Vian’s riotous imaginings, condensed in a gripping Kaliforniesque, Bataillesque road trip of fornication and murder. I say imaginings, because its doubtful Vian ever set foot in America, although this of course is not the point.A highly stylised crime noir, this slim novel packs in every conceivable affront to general morality and human decency. Ostensibly about a black man who has white features going on a calculated rampage to avenge the lynching of his younger brother, the novel aims to deliver a death blow to the self serving hypocrisy and moral decay of ‘decent’ society. Being able to integrate in white circles, Lee Anderson plots with cold calculation the path to multiple degradation and murders which will presumably tilt the balance of justice in his favour, to make up for the loss of his brother. In a slight deviation from traditional revenge noirs, the intended targets here are not his brothers killers, but just any old whites, as long as they have sufficient standing in the community, so their deaths may make a splash. And so let the games begin. As each sordid scene unravels and bleeds into the next, it heralds a massive indictment on the hypocrisy, value corruption and decay of every conceivable layer of society: both white and black. I understand this is the end goal but I am still left reeling and disgusted, I’m afraid, from some of the most disturbing scenes I’ve read recently. In particular, the doubtfully consensual sex with two (possibly virginal) ten year old girls, pimped by a decrepit older ‘doyenne’, who embark into the foray without knowing exactly what is going to happen to them, and end up ‘torn’, drugged, and with chunks of flesh bitten off their (budding) breasts left me cold.No one comes up trumps in this blazing inferno of human greed and desire seeking ever more depraved outlet: it reads like a junkie trip, where each hit needs to be bigger in the perpetual chase of an ever elusive high, until the inevitable denouement.

  • Michael Finocchiaro
    2019-04-03 16:03

    I am sure some Vian fans will take issue with my putting this novel on the pulp fiction level but really, is it necessary to brag about fucking 13 year olds and abusing them in order to be considered a "rebel" as a writer? Do I absolutely have to be disgusted and want to throw up due to the oppressive misogyny and violence of the story to call it art? I draw the line here (as I did with the second Larssen book) that this was too gratuitous, too full of hate of women, too devoid of humanity or humour. I am far from puritanical as anyone looking through my read list on GR would see. I was not put off by the bizarre scenes in Roth or Pynchon or even Sade. But I felt that Vian was just writing to smell his cum as he masturbated on the pages. He did not care about what his eventual readers would thing or how painful it might be to read for them. It is incredibly rare that I do not finish a book, but I felt physically ill reading I'll Spit on Your Grave. I find this book contemptuous and wish I had not attempted to read it. That being said, it seems that the current President shares the same disdain and lack of respect for women that Vian did :/

  • Altay Aktar
    2019-04-19 17:19

    "Sanırım eylem düzenleyen kişiler, iyi tasarlanmış planlarını başta kesinleştirmekle hata yapıyorlar. Bana kalırsa biraz da rastlantılara güvenmek gerek; ama o beklenen an geldiğinde insanın elinin altında gereken her şey bulunmalı."

  • [P]
    2019-04-18 21:15

    At one time I would actively avoid pain and unhappiness, torture and murder, in my reading. I called those who sought out that kind of thing literary ambulance chasers. And yet over the last twelve months I have found myself increasingly indulging in it too, even though it still disturbs and upsets me. I justified it to myself as a newly developed interest in the history of outré, extreme or anti literature, and the decadent, erotic and gothic genres; and while that interest is genuine I didn’t ask myself why, or what motivated it. Then, as I read Boris Vian’s discomforting I Spit On Your Graves, it occurred to me that it is, at least to some extent, because I am, and have been for over a year, deeply unhappy myself. In part, this is due to my personal circumstances, but I’m also angry and hurt by what is happening in the world at large. While I still feel compassion for others, I now realise that I am probably drawn to books that confirm this negative world view, the view that people are essentially full of shit and life is mostly viciousness, pettiness, vapidity and suffering.These days, Boris Vian is most well-known for the cute, some would say twee, love story L’Écume des jours. He wrote I Spit On Your Graves, which as previously suggested is decidedly not cute nor twee, in two weeks as a genre exercise. On face value, it is a passable, better than average, and certainly readable, example of hard-boiled noir in which a man arrives in a town and seeks to take revenge upon some of the inhabitants for the murder of his younger brother. The narrator, Lee Anderson, is engagingly, typically, broad-shouldered and mean; and the supporting cast also conform to expectations, which is to say that the men are hard-drinkers and the women – who make up the majority – are hot-to-trot. Moreover, while Vian didn’t have the best ear for noir dialogue and one-liners, there are a few memorable wise-cracks, such as when Lee says of Dexter’s father that he was ‘the sort of man you feel like smothering slowly with a pillow’ or when he is asked what he intends to do with the Asquith sisters and he replies that ‘any good looking girl is worth doing something with.’What makes Anderson, and therefore the book as a whole, unusual is that he is a black man who looks like a white man. Nearly all noir is political, because it is so class conscious; it deals almost exclusively with the lower – a word I use economically, not necessarily morally – elements of society and with crime. However, not often, or certainly not when the book was written, is race a factor. In I Spit On Your Graves, race is used, first of all, as a motivation for murder, as Anderson’s brother was killed by white people and it is white people upon whom he wants revenge. Secondly, and more interestingly, it is also used as a weapon. Anderson is able to pass amongst the whites because he looks like them. Using the stealth of his appearance, he targets two young, local white girls, who he intends to bed and then dispose of. Crucially, he wants them to know that they were fucked by a black man before he kills them, as he believes that this will horrify them.It is worth pointing out before going any further that the book was originally published under the name Vernon Sullivan. This was not, moreover, an ordinary pseudonym. In a move that put him in the same position as his central character, Vian – a white Frenchman – took on the disguise of a black American, going so far as to pen a preface in which Sullivan outlines the intention or philosophy behind his work. That Vian would not want his own name associated with the book is not surprising, as a story this controversial and relentlessly grim might have been career suicide. However, I feel as though his decision to use a persona, especially that of a black man, was an unfortunate one. First of all, if you are going to write something like I Spit On Your Graves, in which I imagine Vian believed he was making serious, important points about his society, you ought to have the balls to claim it as your own, and not try and palm it off on the very elements of that society that you feel are unjustly treated. Secondly, using Vernon Sullivan strikes me as an attempt to give his opinions and ideas authenticity, as though he understood himself that a successful white Frenchman speaking for disenfranchised black America suggests a lamentable, almost offensive, level of arrogance.In his preface, Vian has Sullivan express his contempt for the ‘good nigger, those that the white people tapped affectionately on the back in literature.’ He goes on to explain his intention to write a novel in which ‘negroes’ are shown to be as tough as white men. And, well, while I understand what Vian was getting at, vis-a-vis a patronising attitude towards black people in literature, he doesn’t show Lee Anderson to be merely tough, but rather he shows him to be all the stereotypes that were/are expected of a black male. He is athletically built, criminal, violent and sex obsessed. There is barely a paragraph that goes by in which the narrator is not lusting after one young teenage girl or other. Sex is – far more than revenge, or his brother, or injustice – almost all he thinks about. Furthermore, one also has to ask why all the girls that Anderson sleeps with, and in some cases rapes, are underage. I struggled to understand the relevance of that. It felt seedy, nasty, and pointless. To have made them of age, in their twenties for example, would not have altered the story at all, except to make it marginally less disturbing. But maybe that was the point: Vian wanted his novel to be as unpleasant as possible, but to what end I do not know.

  • Bucletina
    2019-03-31 22:05

    Es un sopapo directo a la cara. La más pura y cruda realidad. Ni mensajes alentadores, ni víctimas bondadosas. Ninguna intención de lograr que el texto deje alguna moraleja o constituya un relato moralizante. Refleja los esperables efectos que producen tantos siglos de opresión, dolor, torturas y humillaciones. Es horrendo, cruel, terriblemente violento, asqueroso. Es imposible identificarse con los actos de su protagonista. ¿Realmente lo es? No sé, igual no creo que sea la intención de su autor. Creo que todo el texto sigue la misma lógica, de forma complementa fiel y coherente al objetivo: golpear duro. No se desvía nunca de la meta, no desvirtúa el hambre de venganza que tiene Lee, y aunque te ofrece la esperanza de que el final no sea el esperable, te la quita sin miramientos. Como no lo tuvieron nunca los asesinos y racistas que desolaron poblaciones enteras. Pero más que asco, lo que sentí al finalizar el texto fue una profunda tristeza. Ganas de llorar, de vomitar, de gritar, de putear, de exigir. Chapeau para Boris Vian

  • Yuri Dratxenko
    2019-03-23 22:08

    Brutal.

  • Cosimo
    2019-03-31 17:24

    Quando tutto sarà finito“Gli restavano troppi pregiudizi, di bontà e di fede, in testa, era troppo onesto, Tom, ed era questo che lo fregava. Pensava che a far bene si raccoglie bene, invece quando questo succede, è soltanto un caso. Non c'è che una cosa che conta: vendicarsi e vendicarsi nella maniera più completa possibile”.Boris Vian ha scritto J'irai cracher sur vos tombes. No, Vernon Sullivan è l'autore. Pseudonimo per scrittore di colore censurato in America. Vian processato. No, lo ha scritto lo chansonnier che ha composto Il Disertore, canzone celebre contro la guerra. Processato. O forse è il testo di un patafisico, un allievo di Queneau e Alfred Jarry, un amico di Duke Ellington e Charlie Parker e Jean Paul Sartre. Nel 1946 a Parigi è pieno esistenzialismo, dolce vita a ritmo di jazz. Ma da oltre Atlantico arrivano le dark stories, gli hard boiled. E Vian scommette sull'osceno e il pulp con l'editore, in fretta scrive un racconto nero e cupo e nel frattempo sta scrivendo anche La Schiuma dei Giorni, con la parodia di Jean-Sol Partre. E suona jazz e apre locali mitici, storici. E' subito scandalo: sangue, razzismo, violenza, sesso con minorenni, caos e follia, protagonista sadico e psicopatico, nero di pelle bianca. Vian ha mentito, ha ingannato, ha usato la censura per farsi pubblicità, viene criticato e condannato. Ne parlano tutti. Un maledetto, un impostore, un falso. Pubblica morale, tribunale, scandalo et alia. E che storia cruda, dura, a tinte forti, spietata, piena di odio, alla De Sade, dove il linguaggio genera violenza, vuol dire violenza e umiliazione, dove la storia è tutta vera perché interamente inventata, dove il male contagia ogni parola vivente, ogni gesto narrato. Va a fondo, in ogni senso, Boris Vian (era stato traduttore di Chandler). Lee Anderson è un antieroe negativo e disumano: il predatore, attore di perversione, si muove efferato tra eros e thanatos. Il razzismo è un tema caldo e diventa bollente se si intreccia con il principio della vendetta. Un giovane uomo nero, artista e venditore di libri, per vendicare la morte del fratello per odio razziale sceglie di sedurre e uccidere con ferocia e crudeltà due giovanissime ragazze bianche dell'alta società americana, sfruttando charme e intelligenza nel grigiore corrotto della provincia. Viene inseguito dalla polizia e impiccato a un albero dalla gente del villaggio. Vian contro la segregazione. Senza nessuna pietà, all'ultimo respiro. Oggi le immagini riprodotte di brutale e bestiale violenza hanno perso sacralità e quindi producono indifferenza, assenza e incapacità di reagire. La tecnica ha fatto sì che la colpa stessa si contenga incolpevole.

  • Houdini
    2019-04-15 17:04

    Όταν διαβάζω στο οπισθόφυλλο ενός βιβλίου μια πρωτότυπη ιδέαπάντοτε αναρωτιέμαι πως και αν ο συγγραφέας κατάφερε να δημιουργήσει ένα κείμενο αντάξιο της αρχικής του έμπνευσης. Πόσο μάλλον όταν σε συνδυασμό με αυτό ο εκδότης έχει αραδιάσει και ένα σωρό επευφημιστικούς τίτλους όπως π.χ ''αριστούργημα''...Στην συγκεκριμένη περίπτωση το οπισθόφυλλο διατείνεται πως πρόκειται για ένα από τα πιο θυμωμένα και αντιρατσιστικά βιβλία που γράφτηκαν ποτέ. Αυτό από μόνο του ανεβάζει τον πήχη των προσδοκιών αρκετά ψηλά ,όμως από τις πρώτες κιόλας σελίδες της ανάγνωσης οδηγεί τελικά σε ελεύθερη πτώση...Η ιστορία: ένας νέγρος βιάζει και σκοτώνει λευκές κοπέλες ως εκδίκηση για το λιντσάρισμα του αδερφού του,ο οποίος άδικα ενοχοποιήθηκε με την κατηγορία του βιασμού.Όμως αυτό δεν είναι αρκετό για να βγει ένα καλό αποτέλεσμα.Για πολλές σελίδες η πλοκή είναι μηδαμινή φυτεύοντας μου συχνά αρκετές σκέψεις εγκατάλειψης της ανάγνωσης.Η ιστορία δεν είναι στέρεα χτισμένη,οι πράξεις του χαρακτήρα αιτιολογούνται ελλιπώς-δεν υπάρχει εμβάθυνση στον ψυχισμό ώστε να γίνεται αντιληπτή η κλιμάκωση του πάθους- ενώ το τέλος έρχεται κάπως βεβιασμένα χωρίς πολλές εξηγήσεις.Επίσης η αληθοφάνεια δεν είναι το φόρτε του μυθιστορήματος αυτού,καθώς όλα γίνονται υπερβολικά εύκολα.Πολλές σκηνές σεξ και ωμής βίας που δεν πείθουν αλλά αναστέλλουν την απόλαυση της ανάγνωσης προκαλώντας απέχθεια.Φυσικά η ανάγνωση είναι πάντοτε τοπικά και χρονικά προσδιορισμένη και αυτό φαίνεται από το γεγονός ότι το βιβλίο κατάφερε να προκαλέσει σκάνδαλο και να γίνει best-seller στην εποχή του ενώ εάν κάποιος το έγραφε σήμερα θα περνούσε μάλλον απαρατήρητο ή θα αντιμετώπιζε την αποδοκιμασία της κριτικής.Κλείνοντας ,δεν νομίζω πως θα θυμάμαι πολλά από το συγκεκριμένο μυθιστόρημα μετά από λίγο καιρό.Ανήκει στην περίπτωση της καλής αρχικής ιδέας με αδύναμη υλοποίηση.Αδιάφορο,ρηχό και κυρίως άνευρο το βιβλίο αυτό έδωσε μεν στον συγγραφέα να πει αυτά που ήθελε αλλά εν τέλει δεν κατάφερε να τέρψει και να με κάνει να το εκτιμήσω. http://blindalligator.blogspot.gr/201...

  • Tosh
    2019-04-20 22:32

    If "Foam of the Daze" is lightness with bitter sweet taste, than Vian's "I Spit on Your Graves" is a work of pure hate, lust and evil. There are two (or a lot more) sides to Vian's work - and he was also a masterful 'pulp' writer.For more info on this check out : www.tamtambooks.comIt's kind of creepy to push one's book to the general public, but then again I just paid for it, I didn't write it! Somehow in English Vian slipped into the spaces of time. Whenever the names Camus or Sartre is mentioned, so should Vian's. He's not only a major writer, but also the key as well as the lock with respect to cool culture of Paris circ. 1947 to his death in 1959. A friend to the greats, who often said he was a great as well - plus a fantastic personality to hang out with. Check out 'Manual of Saint Germain des Prés" by Vian. I co-edited that book of course!

  • M.
    2019-04-06 17:05

    Ithaki daha iyi bir baski yapmali. Kocaman piksellerden olusan kapak tasarimi, onlarca basim hatasi...

  • Estcavi
    2019-04-12 16:27

    es un libro fuerte, bastante pornografico en algunos momentos. asi que hay que leerlo con la mente muy abierta, pero lo he devorado.

  • Adriana Scarpin
    2019-03-28 21:20

    O que mais salta aos olhos aqui é o fato deste livro ter vindo do mesmo autor de L'Écume des jours, que são basicamente extremos opostos. Como nada me choca depois de ter lido as notícias sobre misoginia e racismo em qualquer jornal diário, certamente não são os terríveis acontecimentos ficticios desse livro que irão me chocar, mesmo porque nunca havia visto em livro toda a escrotidão perversa do ser humano de uma forma tão realista. É isso, folks, esse é o ser humano.

  • Stela
    2019-04-20 20:15

    J’ai pas su trop que penser de ce livre, si différent de mon Boris Vian à moi (celui de L’écume des jours, évidemment). Je ne suis pas encore sûre si mon vote n’a pas été (positivement) influencé par l’histoire derrière le texte, et par l’étrange liaison entre cette œuvre et le destin de l’écrivain. J’ai quand-même bien reconnu l’inépuisable appétit de Vian pour la farce, son plaisir pour la parodie et le défi des conventions sociales. Mais est-ce que ça suffit pour créer un bon roman? Dans un ton sérieux, parfois neutre, le livre se moque de grands thèmes et ça commence avec titre, dont la longueur et la voix tranchante parodie un peu Zola et son « J’accuse », continue avec le traitement ironique, voire burlesque, d’un sujet qui (pour rester dans la zone de la « pulp fiction » ) a rendu célèbre « L’esclave Isaura », pour finir avec un doute sur le genre même – Wikipédia l’appelle ingénument roman policier – ce qui est peut-être c’est vrai pour un total de 4-5 pages à la fin ☺. En fait, la plus intéressante caractéristique de cette œuvre est que l’histoire de son histoire devient des fois plus intéressante que l’histoire qu’elle contient. Et ça dès la préface, où Boris Vian, en tant que traducteur, nous raconte qu’un écrivain américain, Vernon Sullivan, lui a confié le manuscrit d’un roman qu’il ne pouvait pas publier aux Etats-Unis, « terre d’élection des puritains, des alcooliques, et de l’enfoncez-vous-bien-dans-la-tête ». Il continue par identifier les influences (parmi lesquelles Miller et Cain) et finit par offrir une clé de lecture (qui d’ailleurs n’est pas à négliger) : la vengeance du Noir contre le Blanc, qui surgirait du même mélange de fascination et horreur que l’homme primitif éprouvait pour sa proie et ses dieux :Quant à son fond même, il faut y voir une manifestation du goût de la vengeance, chez une race encore, quoi qu’on en dise, brimée et terrorisée, une sorte de tentative d’exorcisme, vis-à-vis de l’emprise des Blancs “vrais”, de la même façon que les hommes néolithiques peignaient des bisons frappés de flèches pour attirer leur proie dans les pièges…Cependant nous, on sait que Sullivan a été inventé par Boris Vian, même si le tribunal qui l’a poursuivi (avec les mêmes accusations que pour Henry Miller) ne le savait pas, et l’auteur est réussi finalement s’en sortir. Mais le petit livre a ruiné irrémédiablement sa réputation pendant sa vie et, plus bizarre encore, semble indirectement avoir provoqué sa mort, car Vian a eu une crise cardiaque fatale lorsqu'il en regardait une (mauvaise) adaptation au cinéma.Une dernière chose à ajouter à la complexe anecdote – il y a une réplique à J’irai cracher sur vos tombes – ou, mieux dire, un négatif, le roman Les morts ont tous la même peau, qui raconte l’histoire d’un Blanc pris pour un Noir.Quant à la narration proprement dite, que voulez-vous que je vous dise ? L’auteur a voulu choquer et l’a fait, non nécessairement dans le style de Henry Miller mais assurément en précurseur de Bret Easton Ellis, quoique avec un message bien différent de celui transmis par American Psycho. Et si vous pensez que ce message a une quelconque liaison avec le problème racial, oubliez ça ! Les Noirs ne sont pas du tout supérieurs aux Blancs dans cette étrange histoire, mélange de brutalité, sexe et meurtre. Non, le message, encore plus cynique (bien que moins articulé du point de vue artistique) que celui de L’écume des jours est qu’il n’y a pas d’espoir pour une humanité qui trouve son plaisir seulement en baisant et tuant. Alors, est-il surprenant que la dernière moque-image du roman soit une érection ?Ceux du village le pendirent tout de même parce que c’était un nègre. Sous son pantalon, son bas-ventre faisait encore une bosse dérisoire.

  • Bronislava Sencakova
    2019-04-10 22:10

    Úplne iné ako Pěna dní, ale celkom čitateľné. Mám rada, keď je autor nečitateľný a jeho knihy čitateľné. Toto by som si chcela prečítať aj vo francúzštine, asi by to dostalo ešte iný rozmer.Nasleduje spoilerodiný úsek (ale zato s výstižnou vulgaritou). (view spoiler)[Lee Anderson sa rozhodol pre pomstu a doslova sa k nej prejebal. Ale mal šancu na normálny život, veru mal. Vian to podal polopate - polopatistickejšie ako scénu s análnym sexom, ktorá mi docvakla až na konci knihy - uživil by sa ako kníhkupec i ako hudobník. Ale jeho život asi mal byť čierno-biely, už z definície. (hide spoiler)]O knihe z iného zdroja:(view spoiler)["Biely muž (Vian), ktorý predstiera, že je čierny (Sullivan), a ktorý píše knihu o čiernom mužovi (Lee Anderson), ktorý predstiera, že je biely." (hide spoiler)]Prvá veta:V Bucktonu mě nikdo neznal.Posledná (dvoj)veta:[Celá] 24. kapitola (view spoiler)[Lidi z vesnice ho přece jenom pověsili, protože to byl negr. Pod kalhotami se mu v podbřišku zase udělala směšná boule. (hide spoiler)]Goodreads výzva 2017:20. dočítaná kniha

  • Jim
    2019-04-22 22:31

    Let's see: We have rape, racism, lynching, rampant sex, hatred, murder -- this thing is so noir that it almost comes out the other side. Boris Vian's I Spit on Your Graves is not a "nice" book. In its favor, it moves like a railroad train at full throttle, but you won't feel terribly good about enjoying it unless you are one sick puppy. This edition was translated into English by Vian with the help of Milton Rosenthal. The particular edition I read was so full of typos that I was always in proofreader mode.If you feel touchy about violence against women, I Spit on Your Graves may make you downright ill. Two rich young women who are sisters are murdered in a particularly gory way by the protagonist, Lee Anderson, who has a grudge against the white race. He is something like Faulkner's Joe Christmas from Light in August, as he is a black who can (and does) pass for white.

  • Brenda
    2019-04-14 14:27

    Nunca me había llamado la atención Boris Vian. Cosa extraña, ya que se podría decir que estoy algo afrancesada. Me empezó a interesar cuando me dijeron que también fue músico de jazz y no sólo eso, sino que su propia literatura era jazzística. Quizás me esperaba otra cosa después de escuchar ese comentario pero lo que me he encontrado no me ha desagradado para nada. Escupiré sobre vuestra tumba es como el humo de un cigarrillo que se eleva, se extiende, se enrosca sobre si mismo y empieza a dar vueltas hasta que se desvanece. Como las notas musicales. Vian es sicalíptico. Escribe de una forma sensual y hedonística, incluso excitante. Si no fuera tan descarada probablemente me callaría todo esto. Pero, en cambio, aquí estamos.

  • Diana
    2019-03-26 17:24

    Wow! Tanto rencor y tanta violencia en tan pocas páginas.

  • Feather Mista
    2019-04-13 18:07

    Está difícil puntuar este libro, ya que me pareció muy buena lectura y con un gancho lo suficientemente fuerte como para terminármelo en menos de dos días. Pero mientras más avanzaba la trama, peor me dejaba lo que leía. Se nota que el autor quiso ser crudo y bestial para generar un efecto dramático y antimoralizante mayor, y mierda si lo logra. La novela va cambiando de registro de una manera paulatina pero evidente, lo mismo que el protagonista. Este pasa de ser un perfecto ejemplo de "Magnificent bastard" a un sociópata por el cual cuesta mucho sentir algún tipo de aprecio, una especie de antihéroe con mucho más de "anti" que de "héroe". La transición está bastante bien hecha y no sorprende ni parece improvisada porque el personaje aclara desde un principio que todo lo que hace lo hace por venganza, explicita que todo forma parte de un plan mayor; pero mientras me caía bien tenía cierta esperanza de que de algún modo su venganza fuera más justa, mejor dirigida, contra los verdaderos victimarios; que se redimiera de un modo menos violento, que no le diera la razón (aunque parcial) a los racistas, a los retrógrados, a los hiperviolentos.Claro que todo esto de lo que me quejo como si fuera indecente está presagiado en el mismo prólogo del autor -que no admite ser tal, ya que la novela salió originalmente con seudónimo- y se entiende que no busca ser una novela moralizante sino un cruel retrato de una realidad injusta y de una escalada de violencia sin fin a la vista. Es a la vez un grito de justicia como un ejemplo de la falta de ella.Si Boris Vian pensaba generar rechazo y compunción es admirable lo bien que lo consiguió, pero a mí como lector me costó seguir disfrutando de la novela a mitad de camino, cuando el hilo conductor deja de ser el sexo y pasa a ser la violencia. A partir de ahí que comencé a padecerla, aunque nunca pensé en abandonarla, a seguirla con un interés más policial (en el sentido que le dan los diarios al término) que social, que cultural, que entretenido. Si esa también era su intención, mejor todavía, otro éxito para Vian. Supongo que el como autor la habrá pasado mejor que sus lectores, sobre todo para la época hipócrita en la que fue escrita. En resumen, una novela que puede resultar genial o desagradable según con qué vara se la mida. Creo que yo traté de usar dos al mismo tiempo y por eso quedó en unas tibias tres estrellas.

  • Sandra
    2019-04-06 19:19

    Le personnage principal, un homme né d'un père noir et d'une mère blanche, est obsédé par la haine des blancs et par la vengeance. Je m'attendais à un héros psychopathe, mais certaines phrases étaient quand même dures à lire (personnage misogyne, pedophile, violeur, tueur ...)En revanche, certains faits semblaient être écrits uniquement dans le but de choquer le lecteur et les événements étaient assez prévisibles. La force de la haine du caractère est le point fort du livre. Jusqu'au bout il porte sa vengeance, sans jamais hésiter ou regretter ses actions. Mais Je n'ai pas réussi à accrocher au style d'écriture, on dirait une réécriture des pensées du narrateur, ce qui m'a souvent dérangé.Mais je peut comprendre pourquoi ce livre est autant apprécié !

  • Y.
    2019-04-02 20:12

    "Mezarlarınıza Tüküreceğim" okumak için yanıp tutuştuğum, uzun zamandır adını sayıkladığım bir kitaptı. Ancak ne yazık ki beklentilerimi karşılamaktan uzaktı. Gerek okuma zevkine ve alışkanlıklarına güvendiğim yakınlarımdan ismini duymuş olmam gerek kitaba başlamak için uzun zaman beklemiş olmamın beklentimi bir hayli yükseltmiş olmasının da bunda etkisi olmuştur şüphesiz. Ancak (bunda etkili olan) daha çok kitabın arka kapağında iddia edildiği gibi "Amerika'daki ırkçılık, şiddet ve hoşgörüsüzlükle dalgasını geçen bir kitap" olamadığı. Kitap ilk sayfadan itibaren rahatsız edici. Eğer bu şekilde kitabın genelinde gözlemlediğimiz şiddet ve tecavüz olaylarıyla Vian'ın Amerikan toplumuyla dalga geçtiği düşünülüyorsa bu kavramları farklı boyutta ve içerikte tekrar tekrar üretmekten başka bir şey yapamamış. Ve dahası bunları eleştirmekten ziyade eleştiri öznesi olmuş. Irkçılık kimi hedef aldığına bakılmaksızın vicdan sahibi yüreklerde haklı bir öfke doğurur, evet! Evet, bu öfkeyle yola çıkan kitleler (zaman zaman) amacından uzaklaşan şekilde yapılanlara karşılık verebilirler. Ancak bu sadece (gerekçeleri düşünülerek) anlaşılabilir, asla kabul edilemez! Kaldı ki "siyahlar için bu dünyada adaletin henüz gelmediğini düşünen" ağır pedofili abimiz, bir zenci kadının çocukları pazarladığı bir evde küçük bir zenci kıza da tecavüz ederek "beyazlardan intikam alma" amacından da uzaklaşıyor. Kitapta yer yer Lee Anderson'un erkek kardeşinin başına gelenleri okuyup onu bunları yapmaya iten(!) nedenlerin yaşamındaki trajediler olduğunu düşünmemiz istense de, tüm bu trajediler de yine şiddet ve tecavüz olaylarının gölgesinde kalmış. Kitabı ırkçılığın ya da şiddetin eleştirisi olarak okumak, benim için, bugüne kadar okuduğum bu temadaki kitaplara haksızlık olur.