Review-uri 0 Romanul care i-a facut celebri in lume pe fratii Strugatki si datorita capodoperei Calauza de Andrei Tarkovski Red Schuhart este calauza. O forta necunoscuta il impinge pe acest inadaptat sa se aventureze ilegal in Zona, in cautarea obiectelor misterioase lasate de vizitatori din alta lume. Zona, care determina pana si natura fiicei lui, il obsedeaza. Insa de dragul fiicei ia hotararea de a face o descindere tragica in adancimi ostile. Publicat dupa indelungi eforturi in Uniunea Sovietica, Picnic la marginea drumului merge mai departe decat literatura SF.
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Shelves: reads When people talk about the "special" feel of Russian literature, I tend to shrug it away as yet another point of confusion "Westerners" have with anything Slavic. Well, a visit may be too grand of a word. The disheartening insignificance of the contact goes well against the well-established rules of science fiction. There was no communication, no contact, nothing.
Just a matter-of-fact quick purposeless roadstop and a bunch of refuse - which still proceeds to affect the lives of people around the mysterious Zones. Picture a forest, a country road, a meadow. Cars drive off the country road into the meadow, a group of young people get out carrying bottles, baskets of food, transistor radios, and cameras. They light fires, pitch tents, turn on the music. In the morning they leave. The animals, birds, and insects that watched in horror through the long night creep out from their hiding places.
And what do they see? Old spark plugs and old filters strewn around Rags, burnt-out bulbs, and a monkey wrench left behind Red Schuhart is a "stalker" - a "riffraff" taking frequent quick forays into the Zone to smuggle out the alien artifacts that are valued on the black market, undeterred by having to live on the outside of the law, always at risk of horrific side effects or death inside and imprisonment outside.
He is a common guy, ordinary, inconsequential, average, hard-hit by life. His goals are not noble - just survival. In life, he is a bottomfeeder. After all, despite the bravado, most of us carry no illusions of our own significance in the grand scheme of things.
The visits to the Zone that we undertake with Red and his less cynical, more wide-eyed companions - first ill-fated Kirill, then just as ill-fated Arthur - are harrowing in a peculiarly surreal fashion. You can feel the characters on the verge of snapping, and the uneasy feeling is omnipresent.
The idea of little people affected by the "bigger things" that are out of their reach. The caution of us unable to understand and come to grasp with even the refuse of the outside civilization. The endless corruption that always seen to almost spontaneously spring into being.
The mundane drone hopelessness of being just cogs in the machine. The hollowness of the society. The bitterness of a small person when faced with something larger - be it other worlds, or the government, or the powers that we do not understand, or humanity itself. And yet there is something akin to hope in the end - or, on the other thought, maybe there is not.
And he was no longer trying to think. But if you really are -- all powerful, all knowing, all understanding -- figure it out! Look into my soul, I know -- everything you need is in there. It has to be.
Picnic la marginea drumului
Picnic la marginea drumului - Arkadi si Boris Strugatki