elegance high society , champagne and sunshine – because we think when it comes to horse racing. The splendor of Europe shines in Ascot, Epsom Downs and Baden-Baden; in the US racing in New York State (Saratoga Springs), Kentucky (Kentucky Derby) and West Virginia tradition.
Jaimy Gordon who leaves us in her award-winning novel “The Outsiders” look behind the scenes of a place, whose true life looks very different. We see a gigantic and merciless dance around the golden calf: American optimism and entrepreneurial spirit, big business to betting and prize money, a few winners many losers .
still, the beautiful appearance masks the harsh reality. Welch sounding, magical names carry the racehorses: Little Spinoza , Gifford Grizzly , Miss Fowlerville , Railroad Joe , < em> The Madhi … But there are droves Klepper. On Indian Mound Downs, the “junk racetrack” in the red dust of the hills of West Virginia, start horses that have their slightly better times behind and are expected to contribute a few dollars before they enter the knacker.
In “Sales race,” they are reported with a fixed price at which it after the race – will change hands – irrespective of the outcome: horse trading as gambling. Anyone who is not perfect, is ripped off.
No less wrecked types feed the animals and prepare them for the race. As they put it in ice bucket, lubricate them with balm, discuss them, inject Butolin ( bute ), know every dirty trick to the last bit of potential in the nags inserted to activate again.
So an ambience attracts shady fortune hunter.
Gamers want to do with betting quick killing. Time increases their star, sometimes it sinks, and barely won, so their capital melt away and again. Loan sharks they stay afloat and not live badly it. In an old RV dwells Medicine Ed, the dark-skinned pferdeflüsternde miracle doctor, and finally want to get out with his 73 years, but he still has are IOUs open. If nothing helps more, he crosses himself, says the Lord’s Prayer, plus a incantatory formula and blows a self-mixed little powder in all four directions, to the misfortune of a horse avert – and therefore thinks: by itself
also deucey is not to be envied. The dilapidated lesbian females staying at the straw of a horse box – not the most inappropriate place for a nurse and trainer to pay attention to the Klepper
unrest comes into this world when Tommy Hansel with girlfriend Maggie and four horses anrückt. to a great coup to land: “Throw a sure winner in the race cheapest […] and make your cut with a thick bet” (p 178). So light is, of course, not everyone fortunately fungus. Tommy with the mad look is a little bonkers in the head, and his Maggie, the “stoned hippie bitch,” he loves to rude, degrading way. While he is sinking ever deeper into dark shops, Maggie will be the only in the end that this unspeakable place of shattered hopes and livelihoods leaves.
Jaimy Gordon holds up a black-spotted mirror of society in the early 1970s in mind. In addition to the good – Medicine Ed, deucey, Maggie – there’s evil all shades: gamblers, petty criminals, mafia and would-types in fine handcrafted boots that surprise, intrigue, manipulate, corrupt and are themselves corrupt. Many of them will not find a more dignified end than the horses at Skinner. Medicine Ed and his horse Pelter will indeed be on the way, but also their trail “just down” (p 326).
A novel for horse lovers and racing insiders? Well, a little affinity for the subject will bring the typical buyer of this book already. But the charm of the virtuoso literary design will fascinate any reader. adapted to the environment Gordon’s language is the everyday. The dialogues are rough, brash, hearty, colloquially, unkempt. Regardless of correctness, just as they tumble to the spokesman from the mouth, they flow without quotation marks in the text: “The days of warning richtich hard.” this is possible translator Ingo Herzke it was the heart of transmitting the feeling American hillbilly slang , as well.
This inspire imaginative descriptions. Just before a race, “she trudged through the puddles to the starting idea, all with hanging mouth, except Little Spinoza , which looked like a little boy who goes collected in the forest pond tadpoles, splish-splash on the rain-soaked parking “(p 147). Little Spinoza is “very civilized, like a man begging at the door to his hat” (p.167) in the starting box. His jockey is Alice Nuzum “no man and no woman, […] not ugly but born as between mud and river water” (page 162).
On his acting becoming apparent that Tommy does not tick quite clean, is mentally disturbed. The author supports this characterization by playing for some passages with the Erzählperpektive – what content disturbed something. As someone applies personally to Tommy, addresses him in the second person. Again and again a twin on: “You, your twin, had your soul stuck in their care, in a little pink bag to the waist” (p 205)
Jaimy Gordon delves deep into the. dark subculture of an alien world, she knows from personal experience. Humans and animals they analyzed with an almost wise gift. The very first lines focus the reader on a microcosm of the misery. Wound horses move in circles of a guide system, “a jammer full year market carousel, the skeleton of a cheap driving operation, imagined by a Träumer which is too tired to dream” (S. 11). to be ever being able to escape the hopelessness of this tight environment, and the certainty condemned as outsiders, determined bitter and depressing atmosphere of the novel.