luna_di_fiele | itculturalinguisticainglese,itculturareligioni
Post by luna_di_fieleSalve a tutti,
mi chiamo Laura, ho 23 anni e sono laureanda in lingue e letterature
straniere Da alcune settimane ho iniziato a lavorare alla tesi e da qui
nasce il problema che sto per sottoporre alla vostra attenzione
La tesi, che mi è stata assegnata dopo ben due anni di attesa, dovrebbe
essere, nelle intenzioni del mio relatore, un'analisi delle ultime pagine
del racconto "The Dead" di James Joyce Proprio alla fine Joyce parla di
"crooked crosses"; io vi ho letto un messaggio blasfemo, giacché "crook"
oltre a significare "curvo, storto" significa anche "truffatore, disonesto"
ma il mio relatore non è d'accordo Per me è importante risolvere la
questione perché, essendo credente e praticante, mi vedrei costretta a
rinunciare alla tesi
Voi cosa ne pensate?
Ringrazio quanti vorranno aiutarmi
ldf
Ciao Laura,
Credo che qualsiasi espressione vada letta e interpretata nel suo
contesto
Riporto il passaggio conclusivo di "The Dead" al quale ti riferisci,
non per te che ovviamente lo conosci ma per chi voglia farsi un'idea.
A me pare una bellissima pagina, carica di tristezza, ma non riesco a
leggerci nulla di "blasfemo"
Forse, posso pensare, quelle croci partecipano a un paesaggio desolato
e non danno speranza
Ma questo, per me, non vuol dire essere blasfemi o offensivi
Cercando su Google, poi, trovo che "crooked cross" è usato normalmente
per descrivere le decorazioni curvilinee delle tipiche croci celtiche
irlandesi.
Questa è la mia impressione da lettore della pagina palese.
Hai altri elementi che facciano pensare a significati nascosti?
Just my 2 cents :)
The air of the room chilled his shoulders He stretched himself
cautiously along under the sheets and lay down beside his wife One by
one they were all becoming shades Better pass boldly into that other
world, in the full glory of some passion, than fade and wither
dismally with age He thought of how she who lay beside him had locked
in her heart for so many years that image of her lover's eyes when he
had told her that he did not wish to live
Generous tears filled Gabriel's eyes He had never felt like that
himself towards any woman but he knew that such a feeling must be
love The tears gathered more thickly in his eyes and in the partial
darkness he imagined he saw the form of a young man standing under a
dripping tree Other forms were near His soul had approached that
region where dwell the vast hosts of the dead He was conscious of,
but could not apprehend, their wayward and flickering existence His
own identity was fading out into a grey impalpable world: the solid
world which these dead had at one time reared and lived in was
dissolving and dwindling
A few light taps upon the pane made him turn to the window It had
begun to snow again He watched sleepily the flakes, silver and dark,
falling obliquely against the lamplight The time had come for him to
set out on his journey westward Yes, the newspapers were right: snow
was general all over Ireland It was falling on every part of the dark
central plain, on the treeless hills, falling softly on the Bog of
Allen and, farther westward, falling softly into the dark mutinous
Shannon waves It was falling, too, upon every part of the lonely
churchyard on the hill where Michael Furey lay buried It lay thickly
on the crooked crosses and headstones, on the spears of the little
gate, on the barren thorns His soul swooned slowly as he heard the
snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like
the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead
--
Enrico C
Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus