Perhaps this is a little bit difficult to explain.

Trapped within this novel of frustratingly pseudo-intellectual conversations, for instance, regarding the nature of nihilism, is a very real attempt to understand.

The posturing of language fits well to convey the ideas and the attitudes, the wanderings and the self-inflated egos and poorly thought out convictions that plague the youth of the world.

It is a novel about finding the self, and it is, even more so, about the fear of losing it.

They are afraid of the bomb, they are afraid of losing, they are afraid of not realizing their potential and so they gain weight, they quit spectacularly, they fail on purpose.

And it is in their rationalizing and in their struggles that this novel finds its niche.

DeLillo, in case you haven't heard, can write.

This is a novel that brims with talent and voice and freshness.

It is weird, it isn't for everyone, it is imperfect, but it is beautiful.

It takes the reader on a journey through the complex minds of its characters, making them question their own beliefs and fears.

The story is not straightforward, but rather meanders and twists, much like the thoughts and emotions of the characters themselves.

Despite its flaws, it manages to capture the essence of what it means to be young and searching in a confusing and often terrifying world.

Originally published in 1972 under the title «End Zone», «Linha Final» is now published in Portugal by Relógio D’Água with a translation of my work.

It is a novel that has «aged» well, and in which the great themes of DeLillo's prose are already present and well matured, which is quite astonishing, considering that it is only Don DeLillo's second novel.

The novel revolves around two poles, American football and the threat of nuclear war. The atmosphere of paranoia and anguish that emerges on every page bridges these two themes.

It is not an easy novel, but it is worth reading. It offers a deep exploration of the human condition in the face of powerful and often terrifying forces. The writing is masterful, with DeLillo's characteristic precision and elegance.

Readers who are willing to engage with the novel's complex themes and challenging narrative will be richly rewarded. «Linha Final» is a significant work of literature that continues to resonate with readers today.

For someone who knows virtually nothing about American football, this wasn't an easy novel for me to read.

The only two Delillo novels I hadn't read were this and Americana, his first, and I'm determined to complete the set. I think it was Martin Amis who said that when we say we love an author, we generally mean we love half of the novels written by them. This is certainly true for me with regards to DeLillo. I hated Ratner's Star and was left indifferent by Point Omega, Cosmopolis, and Players. However, Underworld, Mao 2, White Noise, and Libra are all among my favorite novels of all time.

This was DeLillo's second novel, and there's a sense of him straining to find his stride and voice. The mesmerizing urban lyricism of his middle period is not quite on display here. There are, though, several of his favorite motifs – most prevalently his use of jargon to create an atmosphere of misinformation, disenchantment, and detachment. “The pattern match begins with a search for a substring of a given string that has a specified structure in the string manipulation language.”

It's essentially a novel about power. The yearning to acquire power and the means available to us for acquiring it nowadays. The central character is a star running back for a collegiate football team. He's ambivalent in his strivings for power. He has a penchant for self-destruction and for sabotaging his prospects. Football, like war, is a power struggle of synchronized strategy, bluffed manoeuvres, ordered systems of advancement, and a constant parallel is both drawn up and deconstructed in the novel between football and war. “War is the ultimate realization of modern technology. For centuries men have tested themselves in war. War was the final test, the great experience, the privilege, the honour, the self-sacrifice or what have you, the absolutely ultimate determination of what kind of man you were. War was the great challenge and the great evaluator. It told you how much you were worth. But it's different today. Few men want to go off and fight. We prove ourselves, our manhood, in other ways, in making money, in skydiving, in hunting mountain lions with bow and arrow, in acquiring power of one kind or another. And I think we can forget ideology.”

The central female character is massively and purposefully overweight. She is wilfully renouncing the power of her beauty. “It's hard to be beautiful. You have an obligation to people. You almost become public property. You can lose yourself and get almost mentally disturbed on just the public nature of being beautiful. Don't think I haven't thought about it. You can get completely lost in that whole dumb mess. And anyway who's to say what's beautiful and what's ugly?”

One hugely memorable scene is an impromptu game of football played in driving snow. There's a lot of humour and wilful absurdity (one character is learning by heart Rilke's Duino elegies in the original despite not knowing a word of German; another collects insects).

I'm finding this is one of those novels that seems much richer and cleverer in retrospect when I think about it than it did while reading it. It makes me appreciate DeLillo's evolving style and his ability to explore complex themes even in his earlier works.

As I continue to read through his bibliography, I look forward to seeing how his ideas and writing techniques develop further. Maybe I'll discover more hidden gems like this one that initially eluded me but reveal their true worth upon reflection.

This was my very first encounter with Don DeLillo's work. So, I'm not entirely certain that I grasped every single nuance of it. However, I truly adored the themes he presented and the profound thoughts it provoked within me as I delved into its pages.

The middle section, which painstakingly detailed a single football game, was quite a challenge for me to get through. The reason being, I have absolutely no knowledge about the sport, and it simply went right over my head. Despite that rather lengthy passage and the significance of football to Gary, I didn't get the impression that the book was solely about the sport.

If anything, having a football team seemed like a convenient device to bring together a group of guys who were all grappling with different manifestations of existential angst. They could then vocalize their thoughts to one another, serving as avatars for DeLillo's own meandering, stream-of-consciousness ideas.

I added this book to my to-read list after having read and fallen in love with "The Art of Fielding" by Chad Harbach. I heard him mention DeLillo's "End Zone" as another sports novel that boasted clever writing and engaging banter among the guys on a sports team. Needless to say, the two novels couldn't be more different. "End Zone" might not have been what I was initially expecting or seeking when I began reading it. But, I cherish it for what it ultimately turned out to be. DeLillo is undoubtedly an author whose work I will be exploring again. Now, it's on to "White Noise".

A truly earth-shattering work that seems to accomplish some miraculous feats which I haven't witnessed elsewhere in DeLillo's oeuvre.

We find ourselves struggling to fully comprehend what DeLillo does because a significant portion of it is intricately tied up with our time, the present moment. We can't simply'read it' for the codes it contains. Instead, we continuously see some suggestive runes that correlate to other contemporary things. However, he is always aiming for something much deeper.

Here, we encounter the total failure of language. I didn't find it humorous in the slightest. Instead, it left me with a sense of sadness and pathos. It is truly one of the greater novels I have ever had the privilege of reading.

This work challenges our understanding and forces us to grapple with the complex relationship between language, time, and meaning. It invites us to look beyond the surface and explore the profound depths that lie beneath. DeLillo's masterful storytelling and unique perspective make this novel a must-read for anyone interested in exploring the human condition and the power of literature.

Era il novembre del 1971. Americana era appena uscito, e il New Yorker pubblicò, credo per la prima volta, un pezzo di DeLillo nella sezione Fiction. Il pezzo in questione era il capitolo centrale di uno dei suoi testi a mio avviso più riusciti: End Zone. Ed era un pezzo spiazzante, essendo né più né meno che una cronaca quasi verbatim di una partita di football. Uno di quei pezzi che leggi e la prima cosa che pensi è “What the Fuck…?” Poi, nel marzo del 1972, uscì il libro, il secondo di DeLillo. E attorno a quella partita di football si scoprì un’impalcatura fatta di concetti profondi e linguaggio raffinato.
Oggi DeLillo ha pubblicato 15 romanzi, 3 testi teatrali e una raccolta di racconti. E nella sua produzione, a me piace vedere tre capolavori (White Noise, Underworld e Libra, e per me in quest’ordine), e sotto di questi una triade di piccoli gioiellini: Ratner’s Star per come il linguaggio si fa preciso e tagliente, Cosmopolis per come il linguaggio riesce a cristallizzarsi in luminose immagini concrete, e End Zone, per come il linguaggio si arricchisce di occasionali accelerazioni liriche fin quasi ad invadere i territori della poesia. Ma ognuno ha i suoi DeLilli preferiti.
End Zone è molto di più di un romanzo sul football. Solo apparentemente è costruito sulla similitudine guerra/sport. È un romanzo sul linguaggio, sul solipsismo e sulla ricerca di identità. Insieme a Americana e a Great Jones Street rappresenta un’ideale trilogia. Tutti e tre i libri sono narrati in prima persona da tre protagonisti che cercano di fuggire dall’inessenziale che la realtà gli ha cucito addosso e raggiungere una vera identità individuale.
Gary Harkness, il protagonista di End Zone, deve e vuole fare i conti con la propria identità. C’è anche Bloomberg, suo compagno di stanza, che vuole dimagrire e de-ebreizzarsi. C’è Myna Corbett, la fidanzata di Harkness, una ragazza cicciottella che non vuole dimagrire perché essere magra e bella per lei significherebbe doversi sottomettere alle “responsabilità della bellezza” e quindi perdere una parte della propria libera individualità.
Tutto questo è racchiuso in 242 pagine (della versione originale). Il che rende “End Zone” probabilmente il libro più denso di DeLillo.

It is truly a delight to read a book about one's favorite sport written by a favorite author in their unique writing style. DeLillo's understanding of football is remarkable. The 30+ page section that details a football game with all its intricacies is simply phenomenal. Reading his descriptions, it's astonishing how little the world of football has changed in the past 45+ years.

Besides football, this book shares many similarities with White Noise. There is the impending technological doom, humor, unrealistic dialogue, and deep contemplations on language and the hollowness of certain aspects of modern language.

However, End Zone has some differences. It has more incessant random tangents at times compared to White Noise. Also, the language in End Zone can be more confusing at times, although it seems that this is often done purposefully. These are two reasons why I prefer White Noise. Nevertheless, I would still highly recommend End Zone to fans of DeLillo.

All men do is play football and intellectualize war :/

It seems that the common perception is that men are only interested in two things: playing football and intellectualizing war. While football is a popular sport that many men enjoy, it is a bit of a stretch to say that it is the only thing they do.

Similarly, intellectualizing war is a complex and often controversial topic. While some men may be interested in studying and analyzing the causes and consequences of war, it is not something that all men do.

In reality, men have a wide range of interests and pursuits. Some may be passionate about music, art, or literature. Others may be interested in science, technology, or business. And still others may enjoy spending time with their families, traveling, or engaging in outdoor activities.

So, while it may be easy to stereotype men as only being interested in football and war, it is important to remember that this is a generalization and does not apply to all men. Each person is unique and has their own individual interests and passions.

Lord knows I love DeLillo — I really do!

However, I firmly believe that this is by far his worst book. Perhaps this isn't a widely held opinion, but that's just how I feel.

It seemed as if DeLillo was enjoying himself while writing, but unfortunately, it didn't translate into an equally enjoyable experience for the reader. His typical thematic concerns are present, no doubt, but there was a lack of in-depth exploration to uncover truly interesting material.

There's virtually no narrative momentum to speak of. I guess that can be acceptable in some cases, but in this instance, the book felt completely lifeless. It had no pulse, no energy to draw the reader in and keep them engaged.

The only bright spot for me were the Chalk sisters. Their dialogue was quintessentially DeLillo, sharp and engaging. But aside from that, the rest of the book left me cold. I could easily do without it.

Sorry, Don! I still have a great deal of respect for your work, but this one just didn't do it for me.

The beginning of this work by DeLillo is really great.

However, as the story progresses, he seems to wander aimlessly without a well-defined plot.

Consequently, the whole book starts to fall apart, much like a cake that has been made badly.

Although it is still a cake, it clearly lacks the necessary structure to hold it together.

Perhaps if DeLillo had spent more time developing a coherent plot and organizing his ideas, the book would have been a more satisfying read.

As it stands, it feels unfinished and somewhat disjointed, leaving the reader with a sense of disappointment.

Nevertheless, there are still some redeeming qualities in the book, such as DeLillo's unique writing style and his ability to create vivid characters and settings.

It's just a shame that these elements are not better supported by a stronger narrative.

Overall, this book has the potential to be great, but it needs some work to reach its full potential.

I have a certain feeling that DeLillo here somewhat overworks his typically crazy premise - football being used as a metaphor for war.

However, that sort-of famous line about football not being a metaphor for war because war is a metaphor for war is one of those brilliant acts of subversion that only DeLillo could carry out.

In his typical style, it's almost impossible to determine whether he is messing with us, pulling the rug out from under our feet and making us look elsewhere for the answer, or if it's just meant to seem like he's messing with us.

Either way, I think it's a bit of a missed opportunity that DeLillo didn't place more emphasis on the spectators' gleeful reactions to the carnage of collegiate football.

Nevertheless, it's still funny, disconcerting, and provocative, just not as much so as the two novels that flank it, not to mention DeLillo's mid-period golden works.

Oh well. It's hard to really go wrong with this guy.

Tentatively recommend.

A truly hilarious book centered around a college football player in the desolation of Logos College in West Texas. This player, for the most part, goes through life largely out of a sense of obligation, with the sole exception being his fixation on the menacing specter of the Cold War that loomed over the United States in the 1970s.

The dialogue in this novel is highly praised, as is Part II. However, the numerous characters and the meandering plot might prove off-putting to some readers. Spoilers for the remainder of the review follow.

Part II of the novel offers an entertaining departure from the typical structure of the book. While the majority of the novel completely disregards the actual act of playing football and instead focuses on football practice and other aspects of life at Logos College, it then switches to a play-by-play that vividly demonstrates DeLillo's understanding of the game. This section of the novel begins with the only instance of fourth wall-breaking in the novel, which contends that "[m]uch of the appeal of sport stems from its reliance on elegant gibberish." Indeed, this part of the novel is extremely interesting and enjoyable to read as it描绘s life on the football field, where all the elements of life surrounding the athlete have dissipated. As a former sportsman, this section accurately portrays the manner in which the athlete is detached from his world and thrust into one that is unrecognizably different once the whistle blows. It also illustrates what Gary later argues about football as an attempt to push the boundaries of inner and outer life closer until they blend together.

As previously mentioned, the dialogue in this novel stands out as being truly funny. Although the cadence of speech of most of the characters tends to feel somewhat similar (perhaps the author's voice is a bit too dominant here), a significant portion of their personalities manages to shine through, revealing a group of outcasts at Logos College. Our hero, Gary Harkness, whose meandering path through life is loosely anchored by a compulsion to play football and his curious anxiety about nuclear war, is both funny and likable. Taft Robinson, the first black player at Logos College, is mysterious and talented, and the alienation from his teammates is evident as they spend time speculating about his behavior without approaching him. Myna Corbett, a pretentious and existential classmate of Gary and his romantic interest, whose ruminations on beauty and its value serve to contrast the somewhat shallow existence of the rest of the cast. Emmett Creed, Logos's coach, aspires to lead the team to glory despite its small size and recruits talent while preaching the gospel of pain. And the rest of the football team, most of whom are named, add color and comedy to the empty West Texas landscape. The dialogue does an excellent job of humanizing the characters, and Gary excels as a protagonist primarily due to his ability to point out the absurdity and contradictory nature of his peers, all while navigating the line of understanding his own contradictory nature.

Of all the pieces of dialogue, the conversation between Taft and Gary at the end stands out as the finest in the novel. Given Gary's characterization throughout the story as someone who takes nothing seriously except the threat of nuclear conflict, it is fascinating to witness a moment where he is able to articulate the significance of football to his life. For the majority of the novel, football seems to be a mainstay of Gary's life out of convenience or obligation. While he never describes himself as a star player or a cornerstone of the team's success, especially when compared to Taft Robinson, he is named offensive captain by the end of the novel and is approached by the media as a potential face of the team. It appears that Gary only plays football because he is talented and because it fills the time. He never views it as a matter of life and death, as demonstrated by his willingness to take up Myna's suggestion to get high before a game and then walk off the field after just one play. However, it is made clear early on that, for some reason, Gary is unable to envision a purpose in his life without football. So when Taft (who up until this point has been characterized almost entirely through his skill at the game and his sparsely decorated room) tells Gary that he will not be playing next season, our protagonist finally allows the audience to potentially understand why football is important to him: the promise of money, "[t]he sense of living an inner life right up against the external or tangible life," or simply "pursuing whatever it is you do best." His admission that he doesn't so much play as "drift in and out of cloud banks of action and noise" suggests that the second reason is his motivation for playing: a quest to push the boundary of his internal and external life, perhaps even to merge his interest in nuclear war and his talents in football until he can no longer distinguish between them.

However, for all that this conversation accomplishes in helping the readers understand Gary, it is the first and only glimpse into Taft Robinson the person and not just the athlete. Taft demonstrates in this conversation a level of intelligence and humor that arguably surpasses that of any other character in the story. His desire to focus on his studies, his knowledge of historical figures, his meticulously planned journey through Logos College symbolized by his immaculate room, and (in a moment that proves he is a perfect foil for Gary) his compulsion to read about the ovens and atrocities of World War II. This moment serves to subtly highlight the differences in the anxiety of annihilation experienced by black and white Americans during the 20th century. Taft is fascinated by the targeted destruction of a minority group and the violence against children, while Gary is compelled to learn about his own potential destruction through nuclear violence. While every other character views Taft as merely an athlete, the embodiment of the mystery of black athleticism, he is shown here to be more concerned with those "[t]iny little things" rather than the big stage, the money, or the pursuit of excellence. The readers never explicitly learn why Taft initially chose to play football, but we do discover that he only came to Logos from Columbia because he was promised pain and sacrifice rather than glory.

Overall, it is a fun and easy read. I suspect that it won't have a lasting impact on me beyond this reading, but the final conversation between Gary and Taft elevates what would otherwise have been a 3/5.