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27 de novembro de 2012

Philip Roth e o sexo

Philip Roth se aposentou. Hoje, apesar do enorme atraso que a mídia mundial demorou pra se dar conta disso, do que talvez seja a maior notícia literária do ano (junto com o livro novo da JK Rowling?), todo mundo já sabe. De acordo com o autor americano, ele já leu, já lecionou, já escreveu de tudo. Enough is enough.

O que estamos perdendo com essa aposentadoria? Para a literatura americana, para a literatura judaica contemporânea, para os judeus, para os goys? Mas o que importa mesmo é: e para a sua vida sexual? O que isso significa?

Em tempos deprimentes de “50 Tons de Cinza” e o fenômeno da pretensa sofisticação da literatura soft porn, os gestos físicos de Roth farão falta. Tipicamente judaica, sua sexualidade sempre se desenhou de maneira perversa, complicada, frustrada. Ou bizarra. Deixo vocês com algumas passagens marcantes que lembrei:

 

Her eyes leveled on his exposed member and her tongue out and moving. ‘I want to be your whore,’ she whispered to him (without prompting too), while on the back terrace her Mother told his mother how adorable Sharon looked in the winter coat they’d bought for her that afternoon. (“My life as a man”)

 

My age and my status give her, rationally, the license to surrender, and surrendering in bed is a not unpleasant sensation. But simultaneously, to give yourself over intimately to a much, much older man provides this sort of younger woman with authority of a kind she cannot get in a sexual arrangement with a younger man. She gets both the pleasures of submission and the pleasures of mastery. (“The Dying Animal”)

 

This was not soft porn. This was no longer two unclothed women caressing and kissing on a bed. There was something primitive about it now, this woman-on-woman violence, as though in the room filled with shadows, Pegeen were a magical composite of shaman, acrobat, and animal. It was as if she were wearing a mask on her genitals, a weird totem mask, that made her into what she was not and was not supposed to be. (“The Humbling”)

 

But the shikses, ah, the shikses are something else again. Between the smell of damp sawdust and wet wool in the overheated boat house, and the sight of their fresh cold blonde hair spilling out of their kerchiefs and caps, I am ecstatic. Amidst these flushed and giggling girls, I lace up my skates with weak, trembling fingers, and then out into the cold and after them I move, down the wooden gangplank on my toes and off onto the ice behind a fluttering covey of them – a nosegay of shikses, a garland of gentile girls. (“Portnoy’s Complaint”)

 

Aqui, neste link, um raro momento em que Roth se permite falar sobre sexo.

* Imagem: still da sátira de “50 Tons de Cinza” criada pelo site Funny or Die, com Selena Gomez.
Thiago Blumenthal
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