This interview, conducted on behalf of the Republic, has remained unpublished and in fact dates back to spring 2008. The New Yorker placed him among the twenty authors intended to mark the new century. The Washington Post proclaimed him "one of our best writers, and about Albertine, the story that closes the recent collection Three Lives (published in recent weeks by Minimum Fax, 226 pg, € 13.00) glosses as follows: "simply one of the best stories that appeared in the new millennium." A forty-seven Rick Moody is in short years as an icon, for many reasons: first, an author is deeply American, son of that tradition briefly maximalist, Baroque, at the time that we reduced the postmodern voice - and basically it is no accident that, among its supporters, there are also the dean of the postmodern narrative par excellence, the elusive Thomas Pynchon. Moody, met in Rome in a bookstore and café district of the popular San Lorenzo, obviously refuses affiliations, the parallel combinations: "I've never understood exactly what is meant by the term postmodernism," he points out, and when I ask him if he has never met the same Pynchon, the Most known more for never having been shown in public for masterpieces such as "Gravity's Rainbow," he says, "Even if I met him, would not tell you." The legends are still fired, apparently.
But even before the U.S., Moody's New York is primarily a writer, and never mind if it's actually grew up in Connecticut. Moreover, the author of Ice Storm and American Red (both Bompiani, was taken from the first film of the same name directed by Ang Lee) is one of those four or five narrators say his name and immediately think of Brooklyn, with a built in bohemian escape from the prohibitive costs of Manhattan. "People like to believe that Brooklyn is a kind of refuge for artists, a place where writers meet every day with a drink, maybe talk about poetry, novels and their stuff. It's a funny picture, albeit a little 'cartoonish ... "The list of authors - young and old - who lives in Park Slope is impressive: Jonathan Franzen, Jonathan Safran Foer , Jonathan Lethem, Colson Whitehead, are only some of the colleagues who, in the case of Moody, also mean neighbors. With some di questi, Moody gioca a tracciare possibili paragoni: Colson Whithead? “Vive in un mondo tutto suo, di cui è padrone incontrastato”. Lethem? “È un amico, capita di incontrarci abbastanza spesso. È curioso come lui sia partito dalla fantascienza per approdare a tutt’altri linguaggi, perché nel mio caso ho seguito un po’ il percorso inverso: in Tre Vite la fantascienza occupa un ruolo centrale, e dopotutto Albertine è una specie di personale omaggio a Philip Dick.” Infine: Safran Foer? “Be’, anche lui, in Molto forte, incredibilmente vicino , si è confrontato col dopo 11 settembre…”
And it is the hidden hero of the September 11 Three Lives. Better: a brand to focus on the triptych of stories in question is above all the fear, suspicion, paranoia that feeds America "that looks dangerously close to that of the 50s: the time the enemy was communism, today Islamic world. "Elderly well-off by reading a pulp romance are convinced of conspiracies index ( Army Omega ) used trapped in a web of threatening messages ( K & K) and close the aforementioned Albertine, a New York background dopobomba paradise and a synthetic drug which is called memory, remembrance, commemoration of a past that becomes addictive. Moody's characters are mostly outcasts, losers, dropouts "to which I regard with affection and compassion that never felt for a lawyer or a stock broker." Outcast of the universe, Moody gave a poignant portrait of the beautiful The most shining crown of angels in heaven , originally released in 1995 and translated into Italian almost ten years later, again by Minimum Fax: protagonist, again, New York, this time as an underground East Village already on the path of gentrification and social change. "In the '80s the East Village was a hard place, desperate, even dangerous, but incredibly creative. It was the New York Sonic Youth and avant-garde underground, then everything has changed: now the East Village is a quiet middle-class neighborhood and all of Manhattan has become an unlivable place, barbarian, dead island in the heart of global capitalism. Such changes have a kind of devastating, of irretrievable. A Brooklyn is going something like this: neighborhoods like Williamsburg are following the same fate as the Village of the '80s. "
yet, Brooklyn all the trendy and bohemian "writers with a drink," Rick Moody is one of the happiest expressions: even playing in a band, the Wingdale Community Singers, along with the indie rock legend David Grubbs, and has worked with what is probably the most important American songwriter of our time, namely Sufjan Stevens. It is a big music fan, the Moody "baroque writer," and beauty is passing from the audience relentlessly pop-garde masters like Meredith Monk ("one of my best friends") and even La Monte Young, the father of Minimalism was that of Philip Glass and Steve Reich ("I am was his assistant for something like three days "). Like a bit 'at all, the author intended to mark the letters of the current century, and the plaudits of the New Yorker as the Washington Post are to prove it. But he's got some enemy: the critic and novelist Dale Peck has called it "one of the worst writers of his generation," and not Moody's response was swift. At a gala evening, he came to rival and has dropped just a pie in the face.
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