بغض النظر عن شعوري المسبق بالضغينة و الكراهية و الاشمئزاز و تحاملي اللامنطقي و العرقي و المجحف تجاهها (لأني نُعِت بأوصاف عنصرية لجهلي بها من قبل أحد مواطني مؤلفها لكونها مفخرة لغتهم) إلا أن ترجمتها و لغتها العربية مذهلة مذهلة مذهلة... و مؤلفها ظريف و حاذق... 0

لذلك أبقيت ذكريات الماضي للماضي و لم أدع شيئا يفسد علي متعتي بها فهي ليست ملكا لأحد لأن مؤلفها قد مات منذ دهور و لا يحق لأحد بعده أن يفتخر بها... 0

الأسلوب الروائي مبتكر جدا و خصوصا الطريقة الذكية التي فكر بها ثربانتس لتلافي بعض الأخطاء الروائية التي وقع بها في الجزء الأول مثل حمار سنشو الذي سُرق في فصل ثم ذكره في فصل آخر...0
بس مشكلة هذه الرواية أنها طويلة جدا و هذا الدون كيخوتة ضرب على عصبي و نرفزني بجنونه يعني تمنيت فوت للكتاب و أضربو شي بوكس من كتر ما عصبني

و هي تتحدث عن هذا الدون كيخوتة الذي فقد عقله من قراءة روايات الفرسان و صار يطوف كالفرسان الجوالة مع خادمه سنشو الذي لا يقل بلها عن سيده، و صارت في هذه الرحلة مفارقات و مغامرات مضحكة...0

أحب الإشارة إلى أن الطبعة التي امتلكتها من دار المدى هي الطبعة الأولى و قد عثرت عليها بشق الأنفس، و هي عبارة عن جزئين، و الجميل فيها أنها احتوت رسوما لـ غوستاف دوري
Gustave Dore
مستمدة من أحداث الرواية، و للاسف الطبعة الجديدة لدار المدى صارت جزءا واحدا و أزالت هذه الرسوم.0

الرواية جميلة و طريفة و إن كانت طويلة جدا بحيث يتخلل القارئ الملل... لكن لا بأس من قراءتها...0

و أقول لصديقنا الإسباني الذي هزأ بي لعدم معرفتي بها: أؤكد لك أني لم أصبح أغنى و لا ازددت رقيا و تحضرا بعد قراءتها و لم تضف لي شيئا، اللهم إلا معرفة مدى سخف من يقيّم الناس على كم المعلومات التي سمعوا بها...0

حالا می‌فهمم چرا لرد بایرون این کتاب را غمبارترین رمان عالم خوانده بود. دن کیشوت داستان سرخوردگی‌هاست و داستان آرزوهای بزرگی که رنگ می‌بازد و بدل به اوهامی سرگردان می‌شود.

«دن‌کیشوت از هر رمانی غم‌انگیزتر است و به خصوص از آن رو غم‌انگیز است که ما را به خنده می‌آورد»

از مقدمهٔ کتاب:
دن‌کیشوت مظهر طبقه‌ای است که قدرت و شوکت خود را از دست داده و رو به زوال می‌رود، ولی نمی‌تواند این زوال را باور کند و یا این‌که نمی‌خواهد آن را به روی خود بیاورد. همین است که دن‌کیشوت، نجیب‌زادهٔ مفلوک ناتوان، شمشیر می‌بندد و زره می‌پوشد و بر اسب «تازی» سوار می‌شود و در عین فقر، مهتر و اسلحه‌دار نگاه می‌دارد و به این سو و آن سو می‌رود و مبارز می‌طلبد. سروانتس، تراژدی بسیار غم‌انگیز یک انسان مجنون و ذلیل و درمانده را با کمدی ��سیار مضحک کسانی که دیگر اجتماع جایی برای ایشان ندارد، استادانه درهم‌آمیخته و شاهکاری به وجود آورده که تجسم زندگی دردناک و رقت‌انگیز کسانی است که برخوردار از شرافت و درستی و صاحب افکار بلندند، ولی راه واقعی برآوردن آرزوها و آرمان‌های خود را نمی‌شناسند. از این جاست که «دن‌کیشوت» در هر خانه و کاشانه‌ای جای خود را باز کرده است. دن‌کیشوت با ما بیگانه نیست، در کنار ماست. این‌که بیشتر اوقات مضحک جلوه می‌کند برای این است که او یادگار گذشته‌ای است که بر آن مهر باطله خورده است، رفیق خواب‌ماندهٔ پهلوانان است که بسیار دیر به یک جهان پیر و فرتوت قدم نهاده است، ناچار خویشتن را با آداب و رسوم و احتیاجات و تمنیات زمان که نه می‌تواند درکش کند و نه می‌تواند بپذیردش در تناقض شدید می‌بیند. با این وصف، این مرتاض، این کشیش، این زاهد عدل و داد، از همهٔ لذت‌های حیات، از خوشی‌های یکنواخت زندگی شهرنشینی چشم پوشیده است تا سوار بر یک مرکب جنگی سر به دشت و صحرا بگذارد، در سر پیچ جاده‌ها در کمین جنایت و نابکاری بایستد و عدل و صلح را به جهان بازگرداند و آن روز که می‌فهمد تلاشش بیهوده بوده و ساده‌دلانه فریب احلام و اوهام خود را خورده است، می‌میرد.

إنه دون كيشوت يا سادة؛ الرجل الذي حارب «طواحين الهواء» تلك الشياطين المجنحة؛ مصدر الشرور في الدنيا! قبل أن يتيح له القدر أن يخوض معركته الضارية ضد هذا الجيش الجرار من «قطيع الأغنام» ليثبت فيها بطولته ويخلِّد إسمه، واللتان باءتا بالفشل بسبب خصومه الأشرار من «السحرة»؛ ليحرموه من نصره المؤكد.

المسرحية مليئة بالإسقاطات التي تدعو للتأمل؛ ومع ذلك فهي ممتعة وطريفة إلى حد كبير، خاصة حوارات دون كيشوت مع تابعه المسكين سانشو.

بعد الإنتهاء من القراءة، والتأمل قليلا؛ أدركت أن هذا الدون لم يكن مجنونا إلى هذا الحد؛ فنحن بعد ربعمائة عام من أول إصدار لهذه الرواية؛ مازلنا نحارب طواحين هواء "دون كيشوت"، لازلنا في دوامة الأحلام والأوهام.. منعزلين عن العالم، نرفض كل شيء، ندّعي حمل لواء الحق والعدل والقيم النبيلة، ونبني أعداء من خيالنا، ثم نبتدع مبررات لهزائمنا المتكررة منهم، لنبرئ أنفسنا، فيزداد الوضع سوءً ولا جديد!

n  In soccorso dei deboli e dei bisognosi.n ...
.. non Dio ma un cavaliere errante porrà rimedio alle ingiustizie.


Si ride tra queste pagine per lo strambo abbigliamento dell’hildago Alonso Quijano che, ribattezzatosi don Chisciotte, attraversa le terre della Mancia in cerca di avventure.

Si ride per quel Sancho Panza scudiero proverbiale che tra una bastonata e l’altra affianca il suo padrone.

Entrambi affetti da cecità ma se il servo non vede per ignoranza, lui, il cavaliere errante, ha scelto di non vedere la realtà.
Ogni cosa, allora, assume una dimensione magica e così accanto ai famosi mulini a vento anche delle semplici otri contenenti vino, appaiono come mostruosi giganti che vanno eliminati ad ogni costo perché ogni avventura portata a termine è un passo in più verso l’amata Dulcinea, rozza contadina che don Chisciotte trasforma in nobile donna.

Il primo libro è maggiormente un racconto a cornice perché ogni incontro che contiene il racconto delle vicissitudini di personaggi che a loro volta hanno storie intrecciate.
Il dolore di amori non corrisposti oppure impediti dalla prepotenza dei forti: questo sembra essere il leitmotiv.
Un intreccio di genere epico, lirico, tragico e comico.

Se il primo libro finisce, tuttavia, in modo frettoloso, il secondo a mio parere calca troppo la mano sui travestimenti e la burla.
Tutti gli incontri, difatti, di questa seconda parte, sono incentrati su personaggi che assecondano la visione di don Chisciotte e costruiscono scenari per ingannarlo.
Una piega che non mi ha convinta totalmente, dato che ho trovato questo divertimento troppo cinico tanto da essere chiamato alle sue spalle don Chisciocco!

Io sostengo da sempre che il gioco è bello quando e corto e alla lunga stufa.

Ma:

” Ogni giorno si vedono al mondo cose nuove: le burle si trasformano in realtà e i burlatori si trovano burlati.”

Molto interessanti sono le discussioni su svariati argomenti (nobiltà, ricchezza, commedia, poesia..) dove don Chisciotte dimostra cultura e saggezza.

Il contrasto tra la folle illusione e l’acuta ignoranza dei due protagonisti va pian piano sovrapponendosi verso un finale dove chi era folle rinsavisce viceversa.

” non è stata cosí cattiva la mia vita da dover lasciare dietro di me una reputazione di pazzo;”

n   “Que trata de lo que verá el que lo leyere o lo oirá el que lo escuchare leer” n

Pues así es, que no todo el mundo le saca el mismo provecho. Me dirán que eso ocurre con cualquier libro, y es cierto, pero el caso de este es muy especial.

Los muchos años que lleva en el universo literario juegan a su favor, y si durante un buen número de ellos fue considerado simplemente un libro cómico y de aventuras, después ha dado lugar a multitud de interpretaciones a cual más sesuda, con lo que Cervantes acabó saliéndose con la suya, que no es otra que la que explicitó en el prólogo: que leyéndolo, “el melancólico se mueva a risa, el risueño la acreciente, el simple no se enfade, el discreto se admire de la invención, el grave no la desprecie, ni el prudente deje de alabarla”. Un propósito encomiable y peliagudo que quizá le turbó en demasía si tenemos en cuenta la cantidad de errores, olvidos o contradicciones que contiene, al menos en su primera parte.

En cualquier caso, no deja de sorprender que un Ortega considere al Quijote como “el eterno esfuerzo en el que se debate la cultura toda por dar claridad y seguridad al hombre en el caos existencial en que se halla metido” y un Tom McCarthy piense que se trata de “alguien que quiere ser auténtico… y descubre que para lograrlo ha de sumergirse en ficciones”. Parece que fue Friedrich W. J. Schelling quién estableció la teoría de que la novela confrontaba el idealismo con el realismo, siendo don Quijote el defensor de un ideal inalcanzable en contra de una realidad tozuda y desagradable. Hay quién solo ve en la novela una sátira de las costumbres de la época o, yendo un poco más allá, de la idiosincrasia española. Hasta hay quién ve en la novela una Biblia que tiene a Don Quijote como a un nuevo Cristo.

Me pregunto si Cervantes era consciente de todo esto que ahora se le atribuye, o si no era más que, como algunos argumentan, un genio irreflexivo, vamos, algo así como el burro al que le suena la flauta por casualidad (aunque bien es verdad que, al menos, la tocó dos veces).

Por mi parte creo que tampoco es descartable que la dolencia de don Quijote no fuera más que una fuerte crisis de los cincuenta y, de igual forma que hay quién se compra una moto y se cree el rey del mambo, éste, consciente de pronto de la potencia de su brazo, decidió montárselo a lo grande y ponerse el mundo por bacía de barbero.

n   “Todo es morir, y acabóse la obra” n

Чем ближе читатель по возрасту к Дон Кихоту, а по фигуре — к Санчо Пансе, тем прекраснее кажется этот роман. Великолепный.

I'll be the first to admit it: I'm a fan of popular fiction. I desire enjoyment from certain factors of pacing and style that the literary elite consider "common" and I, in turn, generally find "literature" to be incredibly pretentious. This has led me to hold what some might consider "uncultured" opinions about various great works.

Which brings us to Don Quixote, which many in the literary elite consider to be the greatest novel ever written.

Did I love Don Quixote? I wouldn't go that far. Does it deserve to be called the greatest novel ever written? I'm willing to put it on the short list.

Here's the thing: Cervantes published Don Quixote in the early 17th century, while Shakespeare was still working through his "tragic" phase (Hamlet & whatnot). By rights, it should be like so much other "classic literature:" dense, slow, utterly irrelevant to modern life, and soporific. Instead, it's dense, slow, engaging, and surprisingly relevant. Cervantes manages, almost continuously, to be clever in ways that transcend the 400-year gap and resonate with us now. There's no question that adapting to the writing style of that era is a challenge, and Don Quixote will be slow going to readers accustomed to modern pop fiction. But most intelligent readers will consider this a price worth paying.

Why Don Quixote still works stems largely from its having taken the formulas of "heroic knighthood" (which we are still vaguely familiar with as legend today) and showing it to be cartoonish and absurd. Despite the cultural gap, modern readers will still get the gist of the parody, even if they haven't read the chivalric literature that it is an explicit parody of.

The other reason the story works is because, strangely, we find ourselves continuously at odds with the author over the character of Don Quixote himself. We are told, at every turn, that Quixote is a fool, a madman, and a sinner. Cervantes breaks from the traditional role of a passive narrator to make constant judgment on Quixote's failures and flaws. And because we see Quixote so maligned by both his own author and everyone in the book, we as the reader fall in love with him. By writing a book about a dreamer with unassailable ideals but using the narrative voice of a vitriolic cynic, Cervantes forces us to stand up for the nobility and purity that Quixote achieves. Cervantes has, in effect, martyred his own protagonist in such a dramatic way that it falls to the reader to elevate Quixote to the status of saint.

And any book that can pull that off is worth the difficult prose.

Me encantó. Me divertí muchísimo con este libro. Amé la sencillez, sabiduría y ocurrencias del noble y bonachón Sancho Panza. Don Quijote es como un antihéroe con el que me identifiqué desde las primeras páginas: un hombre convencido y lleno de ideales, dispuesto a salir a luchar por los mismos aunque los reveses de la vida, la crueldad y la gracia de muchas situaciones lo querían mover de ese camino que se había trazado. No nos pasa eso muchas veces?
Me tardé tanto en leer este libro, conocía partes, relatos, anécdotas, las que me contaba mi papá, pero apenas me animé en esta etapa de mi vida en el que este libro me une con el pensamiento y el espíritu a él. Creo que sí fue el momento apropiado porque lo disfruté completamente.
El final me dejó con ese hueco que deja quien parte para un viaje largo y lejano, con un dejo de tristeza al extrañar ya al gran amigo que deja de estar a nuestro lado.
Toda una obra maestra.

So, Don Quixote was that slow and disappointing, and lost my attention about four chapters in, that it has taken me about four months to read it. This an anomaly for me, and I'm afraid I'm not the least bit impressed.

People rave that this book is a classic. Why? I have no idea why this could be in the classic category. Apart from a handful of amusing quotes, this book failed me, in every way possible.

The beginning was readable, and one could almost say I was interested, but then things started getting crazy, and I nothing made any sense. The story didn't really flow, and I just couldn't gel with any of the characters, it was entirely monotonous, and to state that I had to drag myself through this would be an understatement.

Funnily enough, I mentioned to my Mum a few days ago that I was tackling this book, and her reply was "You do read some weird books, Jo." Weird? This is the good lady that has read Wolf Hall five times.

So, for a book with a page count such as this one, I will say, I'm relieved to be done, but I feel like I've wasted four months of my life in doing so.

Two books, really, one written ten years after the super-popular sensation of the first three Sallies of our intrepid Knight Errant, the collected stories here are something really special.

It doesn't even matter that I read a translation from the Spanish of 1605. Or that the numerous references to Chivalry are half-super obscure or relegated to fantasy (or possible fantasy, for you historical purists and hopefuls).

Once we start this comic masterpiece, it becomes something a lot more than a chivalric romance tempered by sheer sarcasm, optimism, delusion, realism, or idealism writ large. It cleverly becomes anything you want as a reader. :)

For idealists and the imaginative at heart, Don Quixote is the hero that never gives up on his dreams no matter what anyone says. Assumed mad by everyone around him, he still manages to be perfectly rational about EVERYTHING except the idea of Chivalry. It consumes everything he does and while it does get him into a LOT of trouble... like getting beat up by a windmill... it also charms the living hell out of almost everyone he meets. The pursuit of his dream fascinates everyone even as they laugh at him.

For the sarcastic and the sardonic among us, we laugh at Don Quixote for the way he shines a spotlight on our own stupid crap and we are shocked and amazed when we discover that he might be RIGHT in his decisions when compared to what "normal", "regular" society thinks and does. His lunacy is almost a divine lunacy. Satire? Absolutely.

For the realist in us, we despair because NO ONE lives by sane rules. Not our neighbors, society, nor the holy idealists that shoot their arrows into the void of absurdity. Sancho Panza fights and fights, trying to keep his old friend alive despite everything, getting beat over the head repeatedly by the lunacy... until he gives in. Broken. And just goes along with reality, taking whatever scraps he can in hopes that the emperor's new clothes will start to fit him.

Gorgeous stuff. Any of us could take any kind of read we want out of this, and there's a lot more than just these three ways to read it. But above all, it's all funny as hell, timely even now, and smart in a way that only the most brilliant books are smart. And timeless.

Anyone upon reading this can see how it influences a vast stream of books that came after. Or TV shows. I think of Monty Python and the Holy Grail, Adventures of Baron Munchausen, Confederacy of Dunces, and even American Psycho.

Of course, I'm sure most people will think of more standard titles, but from TS Eliot to the Dark Tower to Spaghetti Westerns to the Seven Samurai, the influence is still insanely clear. :)

A true classic.

Dissatisfaction with Society, Aggression towards Oneself

Don Quixote, God's minister on earth, the great knight errant who rights the wrong, is disappointed with the world of his time. He has a half-nostalgic half-progressive vision of a world where people don't tell between thine and mine, where maidens in their modesty wander wherever they wish, where there is no deceit or malice but pure justice and truth. But reality is disappointing. The pastoral harmony is degenerating while Christian faith has nothing but an empty form; thus, our Don Quixote with his moral compass and grand ambition sets out to right the wrong by imposing his Chivalric idealism on the pastoral world. However, dissatisfaction with society very quickly turns violent and aggressive. Don Quixote's enemy is the entire society/humanity outside himself; every aggression he commits, he does so by pushing his own natural boundary towards madness; and with only imaginary/metaphysical enemies, he turns aggression towards himself. He infects some imaginative/daring ones with his idealism and stirs them into action, but most of the world with its existential boredom only stares at Don Quixote like a passively smirking windmill, perhaps recognizing in him its own mad idealism behind the monotony of pastoral tranquility. The world laughs at Don Quixote, while Don Quixote laughs at the world (more honorably).

Our hero Don Quixote ultimately surrenders, but his legacy lives on as medieval men step forward into modernity.

One day, a waspish wag who was a friend of the Parnassian poet W.H. Auden said to the sly old master, “Well then, Wystan! Tell us, for a change, that you’ve FINALLY finished Cervantes!”

And of course Auden famously retorted to this (with his favorite deus ex cathedra - playful pedantry), “One is NEVER finished with Quixote!”

No, there’s simply no end for us slowpokes. So I’ve gotta admit here and now that I’ve never finished it, either.

But that doesn’t stop me from opening Cervantes’ magical gearbox with a little fairytale, to reveal the mechanism by which he forces everyone’s attention to the simple fact that, with this one book, he has written the Magnum Opus of modern lit...

One day, God looked around him in Heaven and was mightily perturbed.

He said to his Archangel Gabriel, “Don’t tell me that simple, practical soul Sancho has again beat a retreat from the body of that mad Don Quixote to slum around up here in undisturbed peace?”

“Alas, Almighty, that’s just the way it is on Earth. When a soul can no longer tolerate its master it retreats up here during the madman’s sleep.”

“Hmmm,” said the Lord. “And isn’t the pace of life on earth now becoming more and more intolerable for everyone? Isn’t in-your-face reality in itself becoming unbearable?”

“Yes, Lord,” conceded Gabriel. “But isn’t that the reason You inspired the man Gutenberg to create BOOKS?”

“I know, I know. But just look what READING has done to the mad Don! And isn’t holy Heaven an unsuitable rest stop for an unshriven soul like Sancho?”

“I’ve got a plan, Lord. What about inspiring that wrongly impugned just man Cervantes to put the story of their misadventures together into a colossal book? And making up a happy ending for this Desperate Duo in which the hapless knight Quixote finally comes to his senses? And can now die a holy death...

“THAT way both master and servant, body and soul, can be happily united in Paradise!”

And God was pleased, because He saw it was Good.
***

And now, can I rest my case?

For the object, surely, is not to slog tirelessly through Cervantes’ prolixity...

But to unite Reality and Fantasy in our minds with a life dedicated to Unalloyed Goodness!