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Al doilea volum al tetralogiei care il are ca protagonist pe Arturo Bandini, „Drumul spre Los Angeles” poate fi asezat pe acel raft de literatura universala, absolut seducator, al marilor debuturi damnate. Nascut prematur, in 1933, intr-o America a tuturor prejudecatilor, romanul a fost publicat dupa cincizeci de ani, la scurt timp de la moartea autorului, impunandu-l drepAl doilea volum al tetralogiei care il are ca protagonist pe Arturo Bandini, „Drumul spre Los Angeles” poate fi asezat pe acel raft de literatura universala, absolut seducator, al marilor debuturi damnate. Nascut prematur, in 1933, intr-o America a tuturor prejudecatilor, romanul a fost publicat dupa cincizeci de ani, la scurt timp de la moartea autorului, impunandu-l drept una dintre cele mai puternice si originale voci ale literaturii americane din secolul XX.Arturo Bandini are douazeci de ani si este regele crabilor din golful Los Angeles, pe care nu se sfieste sa-i decimeze la cea mai mica sfidare. Geniu autoproclamat si, in acelasi timp, aspirant terorizat de ideea posibilei sale mediocritati, el bate la poarta faimei scriitoricesti mondiale. Este un Holden Caulfield cu ambitii mai mari si lecturi mai rafinate. Cand Superman de banda desenata, cand supraom nietzschean, Bandini lucreaza intr-o fabrica de conserve, vorbeste ca un literat de mare clasa, citeste filozofi absconsi, se indragosteste de mirosuri sau de bete de chibrit lasate in urma de femei frumoase si, cel mai important, viseaza sa schimbe fata lumii. Ca alter ego al scriitorului John Fante, se poate spune ca si reuseste....

Title : Drumul spre Los Angeles
Author :
Rating :
ISBN : 9789735016609
Format Type : Paperback
Number of Pages : 224 Pages
Status : Available For Download
Last checked : 21 Minutes ago!

Drumul spre Los Angeles Reviews

  • João Carlos
    2019-04-15 15:01

    John Fante Square with the Tower of the Central Library - Los Angeles (Fotografia de Stephen Cooper)“Estrada para Los Angeles”, segundo livro da saga do Arturo Bandini, foi originalmente publicado - postumamente - em 1985, embora tenha sido o primeiro a ser escrito, por John Fante (1909 - 1983). Reencontramos Arturo Bandini a viver em Los Angeles com a sua mãe e com a irmã Mona.Aos dezoito anos, depois da morte do pai, Arturo é forçado a trabalhar na fábrica de conservas do seu tio, para sustentar a sua mãe e a sua irmã.Com uma vida deprimente e rotineira Arturo tem na leitura de revistas pornográficas o seu único “alívio”, actividade censurada pela mãe e pela irmã, ambas de educação católica.Alienado pelas obras de grandes escritores, tem o sonho de ser escritor:”- Tu fartas-te de ler – disse ele. Já tentaste escrever um livro? Foi o suficiente. Daí em diante, eu queria ser escritor.– Estou a escrever um livro neste preciso momento – disse eu. Ele quis saber que tipo de livro. – A minha prosa não é para vender – disse-lhe eu. – Eu escrevo para a posteridade. – Não sabia – disse ele. O que é que escreves? Contos ou ficção normal? – As duas coisas. Sou ambidestro.- Ah, não fazia ideia.Fui até à outra ponta do estabelecimento e comprei um lápis e um caderno. Ele quis saber o que eu estava a escrever naquele instante.- Nada – disse eu.” (Pág. 32-33) Arturo fruto da sua crise existencial torna-se num egocêntrico, frustrado profissionalmente, com relações familiares complexas, tem um comportamento ambíguo com a sua irmã, o que culmina numa agressão injustificada e inqualificável; tornando-se insensível, revoltado e com um comportamento absolutamente desprezível. As comparações entre John Fante e J. D. Salinger de “À Espera no Centeio” são justificáveis no contexto da escrita e do enredo. A qualidade da escrita de John Fante é inquestionável, com um humor hilariante, mas a conjugação do comportamento desdenhoso e agressivo, ridículo e ambíguo, são determinantes para não conseguir ter, neste período temporal, qualquer afinidade com o Arturo Bandini.A carta de despedida que Arturo escreve à sua mãe, a “Querida Mulher Que Me Deu a Vida” reflecte alguma “benevolência” e “honestidade” numa espécie de redenção magnânima.Uns furos abaixo de “A Primavera Há-de Chegar, Bandini” – mas de leitura obrigatória.

  • Guillermo Galvan
    2019-04-12 21:10

    The Road to Los Angles by John Fante introduces one of the most bizarre, disturbed, and likeable alter egos in literature, Arturo Bandini. The book takes place in 1930’s Los Angles, primarily the rough neighborhoods around the harbor docks. We are put in the mind of a young man suffering from the world’s worst grandiosity complex. Bandini is convinced he will go down in history as the world’s greatest man. Unfortunately, he’s from a dirt poor family and works a fish cannery. His megalomania is severe to the point where it becomes absolute comedy. He is the ruler of a kingdom of beautiful women, deadly revolutions, exotic lands, and missions of conquest. The real world is an inconvenience.The psychological depth is superb. Fante knows how to illustrate the grinding gears of a neurotic mind. The settings are absolutely vivid. You can smell the piles of fish guts smearing the page. The characters are fleshed out, but what’s truly interesting is how Fante instills personality into inanimate objects that come to life in Bandini’s warped mind. The constant tension between the magnificent fantasy in Bandini’s head, and the reality of living in a ghetto is done to great effect.John Fante wrote this in his late twenties. The youthful energy is apparent throughout the whole book. The recklessness of youth drives him to take chances like a cocky bastard, but he has the writing ability to pull it off every time. Fante really captures the essence of the grimy, foggy, streets of Los Angles and the blue collar lifestyle. Charles Bukowski has been quoted saying, “Fante was my god.” Fante is writer that goes straight for the jugular, even when it comes to being a coward. He’s a writer that throws dog shit at the church. The Road to Los Angles is a book that swings hard with crude impact and special brand of finesse. Teenage angst just isn’t done this good anymore.

  • Vit Babenco
    2019-04-23 23:02

    “Oh Spengler! What a book! What weight! Like the Los Angeles Telephone Directory. Day after day I read it, never understanding it, never caring either, but reading it because I liked one growling word after another marching across pages with somber mysterious rumblings.”Riotously ambitious, wildly egotistic, possessed with the severe angst of youth, ridden with delirious fantasies, obsessed with the maniacal desire to become a writer Arturo Bandini turns his life into a bitter burlesque… But, however erratically, he continues to move to his purpose.The Road to Los Angeles is violently grotesque but John Fante is utterly honest in telling his story and honesty is a rather rare merchandise in the modern literature.

  • Teresa Proença
    2019-04-23 20:19

    Só não me desiludi porque dificilmente me iludo; e também porque já tenho idade para saber que ninguém é perfeito...Este é o primeiro romance escrito por John Fante, e o segundo livro dos quatro que compõem a Saga de Arturo Bandini. Gostei muito do primeiro e do terceiro, mas este...nem consegui ler tudo. Conta as traquinices de Arturo quando começa a trabalhar; os seus sonhos de ser escritor; os seus desejos obsessivos por mulheres, e mais umas quantas peripécias que revelam Bandini como um jovem violento, arrogante, execrável... Algumas situações parecem ser cómicas, mas não consigo achar piada a um rapaz que azucrina a cabeça das pessoas, espanca a irmã e mata animaizinhos (moscas, peixes,...) com a maior crueldade, para se vingar das contrariedades da vida; ou seja, um comportamento de psicopata, não justificável pelos dezoito anos e pelos sonhos contrariados. Mas não é exactamente por a personagem ser repelente que eu não gostei do livro. É mais porque me senti "traída" no meu amor por Arturo Bandini. E não reconheci, em qualquer passagem, a ternura e beleza da prosa do meu querido John Fante, que tantas vezes me comoveu até às lágrimas. Talvez ainda não tivesse "nascido"...

  • Ned
    2019-04-17 19:57

    It’s a significant feat to get into the head and body of a teenage boy, with the wildness, pressing urges and misappropriated hunger for knowledge and love. I reached for this slim book because it was second in a series (Bandini) that I had started a year or so ago. (full disclosure: I also needed a quick read to get to my next one which my wife was reading). The rambling, stream-of-consciousness of an 18-year old with an overly active imagination was at first unsettling. I realized why Bukowski liked it, with the unabashed utterance it gives to thoughts teetering on madness. It is astonishing that this was published in the 1930’s, surely far ahead of its time for American authors. The leaflet says this was not published in real time, but cobbled together into book form posthumously, after the other two in the series were published. Nonetheless, it is a wild romp through the mind of an 18 year old father-less boy in Los Angeles, who’s wild fantasies bring him much anguish in real life, but who stubbornly feeds them and unabashedly follows where they lead. At times they were Walter Mitty – like, where he is the exalted lover, savior, etc… What is truly hilarious about this book is the author’s assumption of the character of an over-read, uneducated boy who uses long words (poorly understood) from his readings of Schopenhauer, Nietzsche, etc… (and what young man doesn’t find fascination here). This aspect is a clever device by Fante, showing us the conflict of ego in a boy who is blissfully out of context and absolutely intolerable to be around. Mental illness and obsession are clearly issues here.But this is a fun book and the characters, as viewed through the lens of this l’enfante terrible as he takes in his cannery boss (p. 55): “This man was Shorty Naylor. He was much smaller than I was. He was very thin. His collarbones stuck out. He had not teeth worth mentioning in his mouth, only one or two which were worse than nothing. His eyes were like aged oysers on a sheet of newspaper. Tobacco juice caked the corners of his mouth like dry chocolate. His was the look of a rat in waiting. It seemed he had never been out in the sun, his face was so grey. Hedidn’t look at my face but at my belly. I wondered what he saw there.”And moments of blissful freedom finally from our warped protagonist (p. 120): “I felt deliriously and impossibly happy. There was the smell of the sea, the clean salted sweetness of the air, the cold cynical indifference of the starts, the sudden laughing intimacy of the streets, the brazen opulence of light in darkness, the glowing languor of slitted crescent moon. I loved it all, I felt like squealing, making queer noises, new noises, in my throat. It was like walking naked through a valley of beautiful girls on all sides.”

  • Mohamed Shady
    2019-04-10 17:05

    كأنني أقرأ ل "بوكوفسكي"، وإن كان فانتي أكثر درامية بكثير.

  • Jim
    2019-04-03 23:13

    John Fante's The Road to Los Angeles was written some fifty year before it ever was published in 1985. The novel, set around Long Beach, San Pedro, and Wilmington -- near the Los Angeles Harbor -- is an autobiographical story about the author's alter ego, Arturo Gabriel Bandini. Unfortunately, the young Bandini is, plain and simple, a twit. He uses big words he doesn't understand, refers to authors like Nietzsche and Schopenhauer whom he likewise does not understand, and acts in a condescending and supercilious way toward everyone, from shopkeepers and employers to his mother and sister. He pretends to be a writer, but the sample that appears in this book is laughably bad. It begins:Arthur Banning [kind of sounds like Arturo Bandini, doesn't it?], the multi-millionaire oil dealer, tour de force, prima facie, petit maitre, table d'hote, and great lover of ravishing, beautiful, exotic, saccharine and constellation-like women in all parts of the world, in every corner of the globe, women in Bombay, India, land of the Taj Mahal, of Gandhi and Buddha; women in Naples, land of Italian art and Italian fantasy; women in the Riviera; women at Lake Banff; women at Lake Louise; in the Swiss Alps; at the Ambassador Coconut Grove in Los Angeles, California; women at the famed Pons Asinorum [Huh?] in Europe; this same Arthur Banning etc etc etc.There! I couldn't even bear to type in the whole first sentence. Although I like some of Fante's later work, I think Road to Los Angeles should probably have stayed unpublished. Quite frankly, the only reason I read the book through to the end was (1) it was short and (2) I was expecting the main character to have the sh*t kicked out him by someone who tired of his jejune antics.

  • Núria
    2019-04-04 23:19

    'Camino de Los Ángeles' es la primera novela de John Fante, la primera aparición de Arturo Bandini. Fue escrita entre 1933 y 1936, pero fue rechazada y no se publicó hasta después de la muerte de Fante. Se nota que es una novela escrita por un joven lleno de rabia que utilitza la literatura para escupir su rabia en todas y cada una de las páginas que escribe, y en todas y cada una de las páginas que escribe se nota también que quiere ser un "escritor polémico", pero a la vez se nota que quiere ser sincero antes que nada, se muestra tal como es sin ningún tipo de (auto)censura, con todo el patetismo que esto conlleva. Ciertamente se podría definir como 'El guardián entre el centeno' para los jóvenes de los años 30. Y por otra parte, es muy divertido en su grotesco patetismo. Aún así, si Fante sólo hubiera cultivado este tipo de libros no estaría entre mis escritores favoritos. He echado de menos esa ternura tan sutil típica de Fante. Aquí es imposible sentir simpatía por el protagonista.Y también he echado de menos alguna evolución del personaje y/o una reflexión final también marca de la casa (como las que hay implícitas en 'La hermandad de la uva' o 'Mi perro Idiota', que para mí siguen siendo lo mejor de Fante). No es que los libros con personajes con los que sea imposible empatizar y que encima no evolucionen tengan que ser malos, porque 'Camino de Los Ángeles' no lo es, sólo que no está entre mis obras favoritas de Fante. En esta ocasión, Arturo Bandini tiene 18 años y va saltando de oficio a oficio, abandonándo su puesto de trabajo cuando se le cruzan los cables, porque en realidad él es escritor, un gran escritor, por más que lo que se dice escribir, escriba poco. Arturo vive con su madre y su hermana (¿soy sólo yo o la relación entre Arturo y su hermana estaba realmente llena de subtexto incestuoso?) Arturo es un misógino egomaníac0, un sociópata violento. Arturo utiliza adjetivos ridículamente grandilocuentes y mira con desdén a todo el que lo rodea. Y lo más importante: Arturo está tan lleno de sí mismo que es incapaz de ver que es ridículo. Com siempre en Fante, algo de lo que más me ha encantado es como el presunto ateísmo del protagonista choca con su sentido de culpabilidad cristiano. Y hay escenas muy divertidas: la masacre de los cangrejos, la vomitona en la fábrica de conservas, la destrucción de su colección de fotos de chicas, cuando sigue a una mujer que ni conoce por varias calles convencido de que se ha enamorado, el argumento de su primera novela (y también el de la segunda), etc. Y está escrito con una fuerza y un vigor que se contagian. Es un libro que es puro nervio. Pura energía. La lástima es que esta energía no esté canalizada de una forma más satisfactoria.

  • M.
    2019-04-15 22:01

    Arturo'nun ergenlik dönemine gelen olaylar zinciri; bir ergen gerçekte tam olarak ne yaşayabilirse öyle yaşanıyor. Öyle gerçekçi ki!Aynı zamanda, hüzünlü bir yanı da var. Zira, karakterimizin Nietzsche, Schopenhauer okuduğu dönemde tam olarak ben de o kitapları okuyor; belki de böyle fikirlerin hezeyanına kapılıyordum."Tek bir hareketle yükü yerden kaldırıp tekerlerin üzerinde dengeledi, gidon göğüs hizasında. Teknik bir numara. Biliyordum yapamayacağımı. Kamyonu itip yükü götürdü. Ama yine de, o yapabiliyorsa, hayatında muhtemelen tek bir kitap bile okumamış bir Meksikalı, değerlerin dönüşümünden habersiz bir köylü, o yapabiliyorsa ben de yapabilirdim." (s.111)Okuduğu kitaplar ile inşa ettiği kimliğini; bunların ona verdiği kibir ile insanlara dayatma çabası, insanların önünde bu şekilde nasıl gülünç duruma düştüğü...Hepimiz, okuyan, düşünen ve bir şekilde kimliğini inşa etmeye çalışan hepimiz bir emekleme sürecinden geçtik.Olgunlaşmak istedik lakin bunun nasıl ve ne zaman olacağına dair bir fikrimiz yoktu.

  • Daniel Weller
    2019-04-02 19:13

    Lo primero que leí de John Fante fue Pregúntale al polvo, tercera novela de la saga Bandini (segunda en editarse), donde encontré al protagonista malviviendo en Los Angeles mientras intenta vender algún cuento. Recuerdo que me pareció un personaje ridículo, estúpido y desquiciado. Terminé el libro casi enfadado y sin ningún deseo de volver a leer a Fante.No estaba seguro de por qué me había exasperado tanto aquel personaje llamado Arturo Bandini.Unos años después, caí en la tentación de acercarme otra vez a Fante. Elegí, para colmo, otra novela de la tetralogía: Espera a la primavera, Bandini, y salí de ella igual de escarmentado pero, ahora sí, admitiendo ante mí mismo una atracción fatal por el personaje principal.Se supone que Camino de Los Angeles es la primera novela de su autor, aunque se editó la última (póstumamente, de hecho), pero sitúa a Bandini cronológicamente entre las dos que ya he mencionado: Tiene dieciocho años, vive con su madre y su hermana en el puerto de Los Angeles, va dando tumbos de un trabajo a otro y saca de la biblioteca libros que no entiende porque cree que leer a los grandes pensadores es imprescindible para desmarcarse de la mediocridad que le rodea.Aparentemente, Bandini es un personaje ansioso por salir de la miseria y encontrar cierto reconocimiento, y esto sería lo que le haría arremeter contra todo lo que encuentra en su camino y descargar su ira sobre las personas que tiene cerca; porque Bandini mete en el saco de lo que él considera mediocre a su madre, a su hermana, al catolicismo, a sus colegas «macarronis» y a cualquiera que le recuerde sus orígenes. A la postre, se mete en el saco a sí mismo.Porque de eso nos habla Fante, en realidad: de un tipo en batalla permanente consigo mismo. Un tipo enrabietado como un niño porque sabe que está haciendo las cosas mal, que está siendo injusto con todo el mundo y, además, pretende ser alguien que no es. En este sentido, me parece revelador y magnífico el capítulo dieciséis, en el que Bandini logra relajarse dentro del ropero evocando el olor «a rosarios e incienso, a lirios blancos de velatorio, a las alfombras de las iglesias de mi infancia, a cera y a ventanas altas y oscuras, a ancianas de negro arrodilladas en misa». Se recuerda a sí mismo en el confesionario, intentando sincerarse con el sacerdote.Cuando quiere darse cuenta, tiene el pulgar metido en la boca. Se da cuenta de que ha bajado la guardia y, en un acceso de rabia, se perfora el dedo con los dientes y coge el primer vestido que tiene delante para hacerlo pedazos:«Lo desgarré con las manos y los dientes, gruñendo como un perro rabioso, cayendo al suelo, poniéndome el vestido cruzado en las rodillas y dándole tirones furiosos, manchándolo con la sangre del dedo, insultándolo y riéndome de él conforme cedía ante mi fuerza y se rasgabaEntonces me eché a llorar.»Arturo Bandini sigue exasperándome, pero ahora ya sé por qué. Me exaspera porque es el personaje de ficción más descarnado que conozco. Es incómodo porque se parece demasiado a una persona real. O mejor dicho: al alma de una persona real.

  • Ingrid
    2019-03-27 22:02

    Arturo Gabriel Bandini o lo si ama o lo si odia, c'è poco da fare. E questo romanzo, ancora di più del precedente, "Aspetta primavera, Bandini", è sicuramente discontinuo, folle, presuntuoso, provocatorio fino all'impossibile e improbabile. Ha il merito di essere netto e deciso, sia nella scrittura che nel rappresentare questo antieroe che è il nostro Arturo, figura mitizzata soprattutto da se stesso, ancora prima che dalla letteratura (e i problemi di pubblicazione che questo romanzo ha avuto ne sono la dimostrazione, dato che è stato pubblicato postumo, quasi cinquant'anni dopo la morte di Fante).E' così giovane Arturo Bandini, appena diciottene, ed è quindi giustificabile la sua presunzione, il suo essere spaccone, bugiardo, sempre fuori luogo, con un linguaggio così forbito per il contesto in cui è inserito, frutto dell'amore per la lettura di Nietzsche e del suo "Così parlò Zarathustra".Non mancano momenti comici, o patetici, o commoventi, duri, spietati e teneri. L'adolescenza è descritta come è e come deve essere: arrabbiata, illogica, ormonale, caotica, sudata e bugiarda. Regala perciò momenti di autentica meraviglia e divertimento: un libro che descrive alla perfezione quel periodo della vita in cui ci si crede onnipotenti e, col senno di poi, ci rende un po' ridicoli ai nostri stessi occhi.

  • shannon
    2019-04-18 22:14

    this reminds me a lot of confederacy of if you like that book, you will love this one. i am not such a fan of that kind of character, i am not sure why some people find him so funny but there are other redeeming/actually funny things that happen in this book. i haven't explored the rest of john fante so maybe i will appreciate this book more if i read more - or so i understand.

    2019-04-06 15:20

    اخيراً!! مشوار طويل مع رواية قصيره جداً !!رواية حمقاء او كتاب أحمق كحماقة آرتورو مراهق مستفز الجزء الثاني من الملحمة لمن يكن بجمال الكتاب الاول توقعت انها رواية متصله لكن الواضح ان كل جزء قصة مختلفة ويشترك فيها البطل الاحمق آرتورو و أكمل المشوار بالباقي لعل وعسى !

  • Ben Loory
    2019-04-17 19:58

    the war against the crab section was unbelievable. the rest was mainly annoying.

  • blakeR
    2019-04-21 21:08

    An ugly little debut with First Novel written all over it. It's not difficult to see why it remained unpublished during Fante's lifetime. The most surprising and disappointing aspect is how unrecognizable Bandini is here compared to the glorious Ask the Dust (see my review), offensive and obnoxious compared to bold and brilliant.Fante does a good job channeling the arrogance of youth, and a lot of the discrepancies between the two Bandinis could probably be chalked up to just that, in addition to his isolation in the later work (i.e., he has no loved ones to continuously abuse as he does here). But it really just reminded me of my own first efforts at writing, which will also remain mercifully unpublished.The differences between the two novels don't end at the protagonist. The language here is much flatter, not the soaring imagery and innovative flow of Dust. Again: First Novel, understandable. But there's also little to nothing that happens here, and while that was somewhat similar in Dust, there were still various interpersonal connections in that one, not just the one-way invectives or obsessive fantasies you get here. Consequently, the title is somewhat of a misnomer in all but the metaphorical sense. You don't see Bandini physically making his way to Los Angeles; you just see the precious few events that lead to his decision to go there. But Bandini himself stays largely the same from first page to last, literally psychotic at times, even displaying occasional self-consciousness of his mental disturbance. There are even flashes of "Walter Mitty" here, though a sinister Mitty, with Bandini's tendency to convert the mundane into the self-aggrandizing fantastical (interestingly, "Mitty" wouldn't be published until three years after this was written). But Bandini's flights of fancy, unlike Mitty's, hold real-world consequences.Ask the Dust is one of my all-time favorite books, beautiful and inspiring, so I was eager to read the entire Bandini saga in chronological order. Sadly, though I read this in just a day I didn't enjoy it at all, save for a nice little interlude of lovely cheer when Bandini helps an old lady carry her bags and comes away inspired by his own goodness, albeit all-too-briefly (pp. 48-9). But I can't recommend it to anyone except for Fante completists and other writers, and I hope Wait Until Spring, Bandini will be closer in quality to its successor than its predecessor. You can't blame Fante for this one though, because though he wrote it he also recognized after-the-fact that it shouldn't be published. It's disrespectful in a way for his estate to have published it posthumously; Fante certainly had every opportunity to do it himself so you have to assume he deliberately decided not to. And something of such inferior quality can only serve to diminish his legacy. So while it may be valuable as an objective record of Fante's literary transformation, that's probably the only way it should be read and appreciated.Update after perusing other reviews: It's striking how many people loved this book, yet out of all the positive reviews almost none of them mention Ask the Dust, or they admit this being the first Fante book they've read. For those waffling on Fante do yourself a favor and read Dust FIRST, then this, then decide what you think of this one. If you put the two books side by side they're not even close in quality, and it seems like the people who really admire this book are doing it without the context of Fante's masterpiece. In other words: believe me and not them! (How's that for a final Bandini-esque flourish?)Not Bad [email protected]

  • Abeer Saleh
    2019-03-29 21:55

    "الطريق إلى لوس أنجلس ستدهشك. هذا ما يتوجب على الروايات الجيدة أن تفعله", إذًا هذه رواية جيدة, مبهجة, وجميلة كذلك. على عكس البعض حبيت هالجزء أكثر من سابقه, فعدا أن الرواية تمثل "الأدب الأمريكي في أفضل حالاته", وتعد هذه الرباعية الروائية لفانتي"أعظم ما كُتب روائيًا عن الحياة في مدينة لوس أنجلس", كما يمكن اعتبارها توثيق لجانب من ثلاثينيات القرن الماضي-ومابعده- من وجهة نظر ابن مهاجر إيطالي/أمريكي.مايميز هذا الجزء عن سابقه -برأيي- هو حضور روح فانتي التي أحببت, وظرافة بانديني وسخريته اللاذعة -وخيالاته- المضحكة والمستفزة في ذات الوقت, وبالطبع صِدقهُ الذي تشعر به رغم كل شيء, وجمعه بين المتناقضات بشكل غريب ومرح ومثير للعجب, حتى أن سيئاته لا تراها بذلك السوء الذي "يتوجب" أن تراها به, فالأسلوب و "الظرف ينقذها من كره القارىء لها", مما يجعلك تتساءل: هل لو كان حولنا شخص حقيقي يشبه بانديني بتصرفاته وحديثه, كسله و ادعاءاته, غروره وصراحته (المفرطة) كذلك, هل سنحبه أم سنهرب منه, ونخاف من الحديث معه و"الوقوع بين فكيه"؟ ربما "خيالية" الشخصية تجعلنا نقع في حبها, ونحب جنونها كذلك وكل ما يصدر عنها, بل ونكون في تحيز دائم لطرفها, وربما كونها تمثل الإنسان العادي منا (أو جزء منه) في جانب منها, الإنسان الذي "على صلة بك, وعلى صلة بالشوارع, وصلة بالناس الذين تعرفهم" مما يجعلها مميزة, فهنا "الألم والفكاهة متمازجان ببساطة رائعة" كما يقول بوكوفسكي, وهنا -كذلك- وضوح وضحك, فقر وكبرياء, صدق وجنون, هروب ومحاولات, مراوغة وذكاء, وابتسامات كثيرة ترافقك برفقة العظيم آرتورو بانديني.شكر كبير ﻷثر, ولأماني لازار كذلك, على هذه المتعة الكبيرة "جدًا" التي قدموها لنا, والهدية "الثمينة" التي منحونا إياها -كقراء- بالتعرف على فانتي وملحمته بصورة ساحرة, من أكثر الأعمال التي استمتعت بقراءتها هذا العام, مذهلة.❤

  • by Ax
    2019-03-26 16:11

    SogniArturo Bandini è egocentrico e intollerante e spaccone.È sgarbato e scontroso e meschino e maschilista.È irriverente e si dà delle grandi arie.Arturo Bandini è giovane.Ciò che rende particolare la sua esistenza tra queste pagine è la capacità di modellare la realtà a suo piacimento. Lui, un ragazzo fondamentalmente solo nel colpire il mondo delle convenzioni, possiede una fervida e genuina immaginazione che lo aiuta a creare il mondo davanti ai suoi occhi. Esplode repentina a più riprese soffiando vita nelle cose. Che si tratti di fiammiferi o di riviste, di granchi o altro poco importa, perché lui sa sempre come servirsene per adattarla alle esigenze del caso.Così facendo riesce a movimentare la vita, a farla brillare tra le ombre del paese in cui vive e dal quale vuole andarsene. Ci crede, così come crede di poter diventare il più grande scrittore di tutti i tempi non avendo scritto ancora nulla.Arturo Bandini ha mille idee per la testa.Arturo Bandini è giovane.

  • Simon Hollway
    2019-03-28 21:51

    The white heat of a sex-starved creative Italian teenager scorches every page. A blinding magnesium flare, an elemental torchsong to precocious youth that, for all its down-and-dirty honesty and frustrated libido, manages to retain a charm and innocence that the instant gratification of cyber space has forever appropriated. Arturo is utterly adorable and, during each episode in his crazed wanderings through the tough dockside streets of 1930s Los Angeles, I fervently wished he had been transplanted to his spiritual homeland and had been tearing through the cobblestoned communities of Southern Italy. But it wasn't to be. Cooped up in a coldwater flat with his mother and sister, struggling to survive, this was the most Italian of all out of control Italian youths who needed the support, tolerance and patience of a large, doting Mediterranean community to flourish.Arturo is a one-man Manhattan Project. He'll exhaust you but you'll never forget him.

  • Claire
    2019-04-17 19:10

    Pretty gruesome at times but a good book. Reminds me of The Stranger by Camus a bit. Bandini is very judgmental and hypocritical which i think is the ironic theme throughout the book. Like he hates his bosses cause they don't keep inventory or are dishonest and yet he's stealing from them. He hates his sister cause she wants to be a nun and yet he is speaking to God or trying to play God himself, he hated being referred to as a Dago and yet he goes out and is horribly racist to his coworkers. It's almost like that's why we can tolerate reading it cause there is this gruesome balance that is consistent throughout the book. An eye for an eye. We can all identify with judging people and being hypocritical and Arduro Bandini shows us the ridiculousness of it by applying it to every area of his life.

  • Andrea Streva
    2019-04-19 17:19

    Fiquei bem decepcionada com este livro, que foi o primeiro romance do Fante. Sem entrar nos deméritos da história, Fante destila ódio, misoginia, racismo e xenofobia ao longo de praticamente todos os capítulos (o que foi uma completa surpresa para mim - admiradora que era dele). Um anti-herói é um anti-herói, mas o Arturo Bandini acaba sendo apenas um sujeitinho que cansa os olhos. Lamentável.

  • Chris Gager
    2019-04-03 16:55

    Just got this from the local library on an inter-library loan so I'll need to put it at the head of the reading line. I'll be reading the last two installments of the late Mr. Fante's quartet as well. #3 is the best known - "Ask the Dust," and has been made into a poorly received movie(w. Colin Farrell and Salma Hayek). My paperback 1985 edition has the same design but different colors. This is the second part of the Bandini Quartet(Tetrology?) - after "Wait Until Spring, Bandini," but it was the first one written, having then gone unpublished for 50 years. The Bandini Family is now located in Los Angeles, and there's no more father. And now there's a sister but no little brothers. In the Boulder(Rocklin) book the father is a bricklayer, while in this book the late father was a carpenter. I suppose I'll find out if they moved from Rocklin(Boulder) as I get further into the story. In real life the Fante family stayed in Boulder/Denver and John went by himself to L.A.(I think ...).Long Beach in the 30's ..."The pavement wound through white sand, a new road heavy with monoxide gas. In the sand were brown weeds and grasshoppers. Bits of sea shell sparkled through the weeds. It was man-made land, flat and in disorder, shacks unpainted, piles of lumber, piles of tin cans, oil derricks, and hot dog stands, fruit stands and old men on all sides of the road selling popcorn. Overhead the heavy telephone wires gave off a humming sound whenever there was a lull in the traffic noise. Out of the muddy channel bed came the rich stench of oil and scum and strange cargo."L.A. lassitude in the 30's ..."The day came with fog. The nights were nights and nothing else. The days didn't change from one to the other, the golden sun blasting away then dying out. I was always alone. It was hard to remember such monotony. The days would not move. They stood like gray stones. Time passed slowly. Two months crawled by."Bukowski was spot on - the dude can write.Finished last night with this appropriately, and thankfully, brief book. Just when I'd about had enough of the freaked out, uber-hormonal, lying, shrieking, never-shut-up(think Eddie Haskell on speed AND steroids), endlessly(though often quite amusing) repetitive, strident, fantacizing, big word using and abusing, grandiose loudmouth, 18-year old peckerhead Arturo Bandini, the book ends rather abruptly. It's no surprise to me that John Fante's would-be publishers read about half(or less) of this and said NO WAY are we going to publish this. So it sat in his papers for 50 years. And "Wait Until Spring, Bandini," chronologically the first part of the Arturo story, but second written, became Fante's first book published. Next up will be Arturo #3, "Ask the Dust," the most famous - by far - of the quartet. So, in this book Arturo is not that much older than the Arturo of "Wait Until Spring ..." and he's pretty much the same intense drama queen verging on the edge of mental/emotional illness. Near the end of the book things happen fast. Arturo's imagination finally hits exit velocity and his mind and pencil spew forth a REALLY, REALLY bad story. We are treated to some of it, as are the lad's mother and sister, who both own up(the pain-in-the-ass-sister gleefully, the mother reluctantly) to hating it. This propels Arturo to even greater heights of anguish at first, but then he sucks it up, steals the family jewelry, pawns it, and heads up the road to L.A. Sorry if I spoiled the plot, but it's really not that important. John Fante' manages to oh-so-cleverly show the reader what really good writing is, knowing that we know that Arturo, his his alter-ego, will eventually get there. Arturo encounters a mystery woman ..."I felt frenzied; deliriously and impossibly happy. There was that smell of the sea, the clean salted sweetness of the air, the cold cynical indifference of the stars, the brazen opulence of light in darkness, the glowing languor of slitted crescent moon. I loved it all. I felt like squealing, making queer noises, new noises, in my throat. It was like walking naked through a valley of beautiful girls on all sides."More about the mystery woman ..."And I see you now, you woman of that night - I see you in the sanctity of some dirty harbor bedroom flop-joint, with the mist outside, and you lying with legs loose and cold from the fog's lethal kisses, and your hair smelling of blood, sweet as blood, your frayed and ripped hose hanging from a rickety chair beneath the cold yellow light of a single, spotted bulb, the odor of dust and wet leather spinning about, your tattered blue shoes tumbled sadly at the bedside, your face lined with the tiring misery of Woolworth defloration and exhausting poverty, your lips slutty, yet soft lips of beauty calling me to come come come to that miserable room and feast myself upon the decaying rapture of your form, that I might give you a twisting beauty for misery and a twisting beauty for cheapness, my beauty for yours, the light becoming blackness as we scream, our miserable love and farewell to the tortuous flickering of a grey dawn that refused to really begin and would never really have an ending."Arturo cracks wise - he IS pretty funny sometimes ... his farewell note to his mother ..." ... and I repeat to you in no uncertain terms that I am an artist, a creator beyond question. And, per se, the fumbling fulminations of cerebration and intellect find little fruition in the debauched, distorted hegemony that we poor mortals, for lack of better and more concise terminology, call home."When I read and reviewed "Wait Until Spring, Bandidi" I called it one of a kind(I think), after this I'll have to call them "two of a kind" I suppose. Fante's a one of a kind writer, in a general way kind of like Henry Green.- On impulse I award this book a fan's 4.75*, which rounds up to 5*- BTW, "Arthur Banning" is a reference to the guy who was sort of the founder of Wilmington, CA.

  • Tamer Ertangil
    2019-04-01 20:05

    Geçenlerde Fante’nin ilk romanını okudum. Los Angeles Yolu. Bu kitapla birlikte dörtleme tamamlanmış oldu. Kitapta Fante tam bir ergen. Kötü anlamda söylemiyorum. Kişinin ilkgençlik yıllarında içine düştüğü çalkantıları olduğu gibi resmetmiş. Duygusal gelgitlerine parasızlıktan kaynaklı sefalet de eklenince epey zor zamanlar geçirmiş.Girmediği ayak işi kalmamış. Sürekli bir memnuniyetsizlik hâli. Konserve balık fabrikasında çalıştığı zamanları anlatıyor örneğin. Bir türlü kendini o ortama ait hissedemiyor. Kendini diğer işçilerden, o sıradan, vasıfsız, hayattaki tek amacı günü kurtarabilmek olan göçmenlerden farklı görüyor. “Aslında ben bir yazarım” diyor onlara. “Yazacağım kitap için veri topluyor, gözlem yapıyorum.” Sanki meteliğe kurşun sıkmıyormuş, sanki üç kuruşa muhtaç değilmiş gibi, kokusuna dahi tahammül edemediği o ortama güya müstakbel kitabı için katlanıyormuş izlenimi vermek istiyor. Gurur işte... Kimse onu ciddiye almıyor tabi. Çulsuzun teki olduğunu bilmeyen yok.Fante’nin ilkgençlik yıllarını okurken empati kurduğum anlar oldu. Özellikle kendini olduğundan değerli hissetme meselesinde. Adamın yılları hamallık, ırgatlık, amelelik ve bu tarz işlerde geçmiş; ama her zaman bunun geçici bir durum olduğunu telkin etmiş kendine. “Ben bir dâhiyim”, “farklıyım”, “üstünüm” hissi onu hiç bırakmamış. Mevcut durumun geçici olduğu, yakın gelecekte yükseleceği, tez zamanda hak ettiği değeri göreceği umudu -ve bu umuda rağmen yıllarca süren sefalet: İşte bu beni üzdü. Sanıyorum çoğumuzda olmuştur bu his. Hangi işi yaparsak yapalım, ne konumda olursak olalım hep daha iyisine layık olduğumuzu hissederiz. Ben yıllarca, hani çoktan geçti gitti ama, ileride bir gün çalışmak zorunda olmayacağıma inandım. Farklıydım. Dünya’yı farklı ve derinlemesine görebiliyordum. Gözümle görmek değil yani. Dilerseniz sezgi diyelim. Çalışmak benim için geçici bir evre olacaktı. Yüksek işlerle, sanatla, bilimle, felsefeyle ilgilenecek, enstrüman çalmayı ve bir sürü yabancı dili öğrenecek, belki müthiş bir yazılım geliştirecek, bir şekilde insanlığa katkı sunacaktım. Eninde sonunda parayı vuracaktım. Çalışmak da neymiş? Geçici bir aşama.Yıllar geçtikçe çalışmaya alıştım ve bu kuruntu kayboldu. İyi de oldu. Zaman geçtikçe kişideki ben-merkezci duygular zayıflıyor. Dâhi filan değildim. IQ’m yüksek değildi. Matematiğe kafam basmıyordu mesela. Kafam çalışmasına çalışıyor; ama yavaş çalışıyordu. Enstrüman çalmak emek istiyordu. Giderek kendi sıradanlığımdan memnun olmaya başladım. Flu bir gelecek uğruna mevcut andan memnuniyetsizlik duymayı bırakalı çok oldu. Otuzlu yaşlar daha güzelmiş diyorum ne zamandır. Böyle iyi.Katılmayabilirsiniz ama Fante edebî bir deha filan değil. Yalnızca samimi. Onu okurken insan kendisinden bir şeyler buluyor. Sırf bu yüzden okudum dörtlemesini. Neyse ki Fante’nin kendisini özel hissetmesi bir kuruntu olarak kalmamış. Onca sefaletin ardından amacına ulaştı ve ünlendi hiç olmazsa.Hayat işte.

  • Gerard
    2019-03-30 22:17

    En esta breve novela seguimos las peripecias del protagonista, un joven con delirios de grandeza, arrogante, esnobista y cruel, un verdadero inadaptado en permanente conflicto con su entorno. Resulta inevitable reírse de su patetismo e, incluso, compadirse de él por el efecto empático de todos los que, en algún momento también hemos visto el mundo con unos ojos similares a los suyos.No obstante, en muchos capítulos, Bandini vive una tensión permanente entre la misoginia y la veneración femenina, la que me ha resultado repetitiva, casi exasperante, produciéndome un claro distanciamiento del relato.En resumen: un personaje pasado de vueltas por una historia cruda, sin edulcorantes, y que, en los detalles, retrata un contexto y una época de profundos cambios sociales y económicos.El estilo telegráfico, en una primera persona torrencial, de este temprano Fante resulta muy ágil y cercano. Frases cortas y directas, sin filtros y con pocos caracteres. No puedo evitar pensar que conectaría muy bien con la generación actual de jóvenes, en caso de que estos apartaran momentáneamente la mirada de las entretenidas pantallas.

  • Yimmy
    2019-04-10 15:13

    So, this is the book that was denied, the book which Fante had troubles having it published. His first novel but was published in a posthumous way. His darkest novel, the general tone in this book is shallowed, treating themes which at that time (1933) were considered delicate, such as theft, murder, sexuality and hatred. You could tell that this was Fante's first novel, the writing even if recognizable feels extremley raw, something different from the rest of his work, there's no restraint, Fante delivers a gloomy perception of the American society and the madness of Bandini's soul. Arturo, mainly looking for the money and women, a narcissic character who loves women as much as he hates them, his regards to them alternate from wonderous things to simple objects. Fante does what does best, mixing emotion with humour in an unique way, although the humour of The Road To Los Angeles is a dark one and may seem to some as extremely harsh. I found myself laughing and sometimes yelling at Bandini. (I hated him when he stole the gold of his mother's) If bandini is that way it is only due to his loneliness. Fante through Bandini gave a life to every object in the book (cigarettes, books, pictures) and made dialogues with them, for there was nothing else in Bandini's life, a loneliness which he had find a refuge in common things. A must-read of Fante, his early and rawest work. A crude perception of his, something you will hardly find in the rest of his work.

  • Martin
    2019-04-22 23:16

    If the book were any longer, I might have given it two stars. Since it was only 166 pages, I can't be too mad at it. This was Fante's first novel written in the Bandini Quartet, but was the last to be published. I'm a continuity stickler, so I struggled with the different family, circumstances and location of this family compared to the one in "Wait Until Spring, Bandini". The main character is just hard to spend any time with due to his immaturity and grandiosity. The writing can be spotty and not compelling. Many of the other reviewers on goodreads have said that they at least enjoyed the battle with the crabs, but my favorite chapter was 18, when he followed the woman in the purple dress. Overall I felt like Arturo's sister when she read his first novel: I didn't find it gripping, it had me griping.

  • Robert
    2019-04-22 17:56

    Dacă eşti plictisit şi vrei să citeşti ceva, trebuie neapărat să citeşti cartea asta, o să te plictiseşti şi mai tare :))))

  • Montaser Abusin
    2019-04-10 21:11

    يقدم جون فانتي ،ارتورو بانديني بطل الرواية في قالب اسطوري مختلط مابين الواقع والخيال بسخرية رشيقة، وكلاسكية ساحرة..حقيقي كتاب لطيف وأسلوب ممتع جدا، ستدهشك وتضحك كثيرا.

  • booksofAhu
    2019-04-05 16:09

    This is the second book of the saga. I am bored, really bored. I forced myself to read.This book is about a 19year old boy, a smart but selfish boy that blames every other person. You'll probably don't like or link with him, and you'll bored his fuss.The two star is because of the writer's talent of telling and informative of that era of US.Male readers might enjoy more because of the detailed telling of how a male brain works at that age.

  • 1.1
    2019-03-27 15:20

    Frustratingly accurate portrayal of adolescence with all its pitfalls and prating. I got the impression of Napoleon Dynamite for the 1930s. It has that same blend of humor and bleakness. And all the killing and savagery towards animals, the innocent's lusting after women and dreaming up delusional greatness. Then I suppose many of us who have had frustrated dreams could read this novel and find it tragic as well. It's a crazy book, and a bit wild - not bad reading, but though I haven't read Fante's other books I am willing to bet most of them are better.

  • Oscar
    2019-04-01 21:19

    ¡Allá vamos! Este Arturo Bandini me ha parecido: pedante, cruel, prepotente, fantasma, listillo, guarro, idiota, impertinente, estúpido, vago, vicioso, chiflado... Y sin embargo, tiene un algo de gracioso. Esto es lo único bueno de la novela, que te hace reír con sus chifladuras y locuras. En el prólogo ya te avisan de que no vas a encontrarte con los mismos personajes que en el resto de novelas protagonizadas por Bandini. Es cierto, pero sólo en parte, porque lo único que he echado de menos es esa nota de humanidad, ternura y bondad que caracteriza el resto de sus obras. Y es que Bandini es demasiado brutal, desmedido, casi parece una parodia de sí mismo.La historia es bien sencilla, Arturo Bandini, de 18 años, vive con su madre y su hermana Mona, y desea ser escritor a toda costa. Pasa por múltiples trabajos y en todos mete la pata por culpa de esa bocaza que tiene. Le gusta demasiado ir de listillo y sabihondo, y esto no me gusta, porque, por muchos libros que haya leído, en el fondo es un ignorante y no debería echar en cara a nadie su incultura. También me he fijado en que Bandini tiene graves problemas mentales, si no a qué viene esa ira y brutalidad para con su madre y hermana, cangrejos, grillos, moscas, pescados, e incluso con él mismo. Pienso que tiene tanta ira contenida, tantos deseos de huir de esa vida tan insatisfecha en la que está atrapado, que lo paga con todo lo que le rodea. En una palabra: autodestrucción.Parece que sea una novela depresiva y amarga, pero ¡qué va!, todo lo contrario. Bandini es un tarado, eso está claro, pero con sus teorías y alucinaciones te ríes mucho. La novela también está bien escrita, con una prosa fluída y natural. Se nota que fue la primera novela que escribió John Fante, eso sí. Se ve que se la rechazaron en su momento, y no me extraña, corrían los años 30 y aún no estaban preparados para este tipo de realismo sucio.