El corazón es un cazador solitario - Carson McCullers

Título original: The Heart is a Lonely Hunter

He had never known just how much Antonapoulos understood and what he was thinking. Now in the big Greek’s expression Singer thought that he could detect something sly and joking. He would shake his friend by the shoulders until he was very tired and explain thing over and over with his hands. But nothing did any good.

Siempre he dicho que me gustan las películas en las que no pasa nada, en las que lo importante es la carga emocional. Esto también afecta a los libros; si está bien escrito, no me importa que las páginas se sucedan las unas a las otras sin que ninguna gran aventura ocurra.

(…) the thought of the violin kept worrying her. She could never have made it like a real one –and after all those weeks of planning the very thought of it made her sick. But how could she have been so sure the idea would work? So dumb? Maybe when people longed for a thing that bad the longing made them trust in anything that might give it to them.

Además, últimamente he leído mucho por deber y, de este modo, no aprecio los libros del mismo modo: en cada párrafo estoy buscando la crítica literaria (y esto no es realmente lo que hago aquí). Pero con esta novela de McCullers, me he podido dejar llevar.

But all the time –no matter what she was doing –there was music. Sometimes she hummed to herself as she walked, and other times she listened quietly to the songs inside her. There were all kinds of music in her thoughts. Some she heard over radios, and some was in her mind already without her ever having heard it anywhere.

Hace ya algunos años que el club de lectura de la biblioteca de mi pueblo leyó esta novela. Yo la pedí en inglés pero llegó sólo una semana antes de la tertulia. No me acabé el libro, quizás tampoco estaba yo en el momento más apropiado para leer algo así. Quizás, es algo que sólo se tiene que leer cuando hay paz, cuando hay amor, cuando hay felicidad.

He sat very still and with his hands in his pockets, and because he did not speak it made him seem superior. What did the fellow thing and realize? What did he know?

Este año he podido retomar la lectura, o mejor dicho, reiniciarla. Al fin y al cabo, los detalles son tan numerosos que releerlos es una buena idea. Y mientras leía esta maravilla de novela, pensaba "Y con sólo 23 años la escribió". La dureza que expresa es propia de alguien que ha sufrido mucho, o que ha vivido también mucho.

‘The things they have done to us! The truths they have turned into lies. The ideals they have fouled and made vile. Take Jesus. He was one of us. He knew. When he said that it is harder for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God –he damn well meant just what he said. But look what the Church has done to Jesus during the last two thousand years. What they have made of him. How they have turned every word he spoke for their own vile ends. Jesus would be framed and in jail if he was living today. Jesus would be one who really knows. Me and Jesus would sit across the table and I would look at him and he would look at me and we would both know that the other knew. Me and Jesus and Karl Marx could sit at a table (…).

Como he dicho, en la novela no suceden muchas cosas. La trama es sencilla: existe un sordomudo Singer al que se le acoplan personas para usarle, de algún modo, de sicoterapeuta. Así, tenemos a Mick, la niña soñadora; Biff, el observador propietario de un bar; Dr Copeland, el idealista doctor negro; y Blount, el alcohólico agitador socialista.

‘I wonder has Harry still got his gold piece,’ Spareribs said.
‘What gold piece?’
‘When a Jew boy is born they put a gold piece in the bank for him. That’s what Jews do.’
‘Shucks. You got it mixed up,’ she said. ‘It’s Catholics you’re thinking about. Catholics but a pistol for a baby soon as it’s born. Some day the Catholics mean to start a war and kill everybody else.’

Las vidas de estos personajes a veces se cruzan, pero no llegan a ir por la misma calzada. Biff siente un cariño hacia Mick que ni él mismo sabe describir, quizás sus ganas de tener hijos que no ha podido realizar. Blount y el Dr Copeland tienen unos ideales socialistas o marxistas comunes, pero no llegan a estar de acuerdo.

Mister Singer was the only one who seemed to know what it was all about. Maybe this was because he didn’t hear that awful noise. His face was still calm, and whenever Bubber looked at him he seemed to get quieter. Mister Singer was different from any other man, and at times like this it would be better if other people would let him manage. He had more sense and he knew things that ordinary people couldn’t know. He just looked at Bubber, and after a while the kid quieted down enough so that their Dad could get him to bed.

De hecho, en un momento en que los cuatro, que por separado no paran de hablarle al sordomudo, se encuentran y no son capaces de empezar una conversación. Singer, que ya tiene suficientes problemas con la ausencia de su amigo Spiros, y con tener que leerles los labios cuando cada uno modula de un modo totalmente diferente, no comprende como no existe la comunicación entre ellos.

‘Some of you young people here this morning may feel the need to be teachers or nurses or leaders of your race. But most of you will be denied. You will have to sell yourselves for a useless purpose in order to keep alive. You will be thrust back and defeated. The young chemist picks cotton. The young writer is unable to learn to read. The teacher is held in useless slavery at some ironing-board. We have no representatives in government. We have no vote. In all of this great country we are the most oppressed of all people. We cannot lift up our voice. Our tongues rot in our mouths from lack of use. Our hearts grow empty and lose strength for our purpose.’

El leitmotiv de la obra es, precisamente, la lucha del hombre contra la soledad: todos los personajes se sienten solos, ya sea porque lo están de verdad, porque lo buscan a pesar de que no lo quieren, o porque se lo encuentran aun cuando tienen mucha gente alrededor.

Those ugly memories wove through his thoughts during the first months like bad threads through a carpet. And then they were gone. All the times that they had been unhappy were forgotten. For as the year went on his thoughts of his friend spiraled deeper until he dwelt only with the Antonapoulos whom he alone could know.

A parte de este tema, la música, la violencia, la religión, la política y la heroicidad aparecen continuamente en la historia, pero lo hacen como elementos habituales de la vida (incluso la violencia) y no como temas centrales.

Mick handed Doctor Copeland a cup of coffee mixed with watery milk. The milk gave the drink a grey-blue sheen. Some of the coffee had sloshed over into the saucer, so first he dried the saucer and the rim of the cup with his handkerchief. He had not wanted coffee at all.

Lo más importante de la historia es, creo, la descripción de este Deep South (Sur profundo estadounidense) en el que nos encontramos. Es duro, a ratos, pero nada que no se pueda superar. Al fin y al cabo, la vida también es dura (sobre todo en aquél momento, en aquella zona).

Somehow he remembered that the awning had not yet been raised. As he went to the door his walk gained steadiness. And when at last he was inside again he composed himself soberly to await the morning sun.

• Nota: 9/10
• Destaco: la descripción prácticamente cinematográfica que realiza.
• Algo negativo: el principio es ameno pero llega un momento en que te encallas. Es importante seguir, porque las últimas cien o cien y algo páginas las leerás de un tirón.
• Pantalla: existe una versión dirigida por Robert Ellis Miller. En vez de suceder en la Depresión, la película se sitúa en los 60. Esto comporta muchos cambios: no hay referencias políticas (Marxismo, Socialismo, Nazismo) que tantas páginas llena en el libro. Hay muchos cambios y recomiendo no verla justo después de haber leído el libro, si acaso unos meses más tarde. Sin embargo, la simplificación de algunos personajes hace más cómoda la narración. También hay obras de teatro.
• Recomiendo: estar de buen humor cuando la leas, sino te puedes entristecer. Si la lees en inglés, es un lenguaje algo más difícil que lo que estamos acostumbrados, y a veces es complicado seguir el "Black English" pero vale mucho la pena para no perder ni un ápice de la mágia que tiene.