Printre cele 100 de c\u0103r\u021bi notabile ale anului 2020 din lista The New York Times<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n Romanul Omul timpului meu<\/em>, a c\u0103rui ac\u021biune se desf\u0103\u0219oar\u0103 \u00een Iran \u0219i New York, spune povestea lui Hamid Mozaffarian, care s-a \u00eenstr\u0103inat de sine \u0219i de lumea din jurul s\u0103u. Dup\u0103 ce a lucrat zeci de ani ca anchetator pentru regimul iranian, Hamid c\u0103l\u0103tore\u0219te \u00eentr-o misiune diplomatic\u0103 la New York, unde \u00ee\u0219i \u00eent\u00e2lne\u0219te familia exilat\u0103 \u0219i ia cenu\u0219a tat\u0103lui s\u0103u, care a murit dorindu-\u0219i s\u0103 fie \u00eenmorm\u00e2ntat \u00een Iran. Rev\u0103z\u00e2ndu-se cu fratele s\u0103u \u0219i al\u021bi exila\u021bi, Hamid este for\u021bat s\u0103 se confrunte cu propriul trecut, cu natura perfid\u0103 a violen\u021bei \u0219i cu credin\u021ba sa \u00eentr-un sistem care l-a \u021binut captiv at\u00e2\u021bia ani.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Complex din punct de vedere politic \u0219i conving\u0103tor la nivel afectiv, Omul timpului meu<\/em> exploreaz\u0103 diferite tipuri de pierdere \u2013 a oamenilor, a locurilor, a idealurilor, a timpului \u0219i a sinelui. Acesta nu este doar un roman despre familie \u0219i amintiri, ci \u0219i despre interdependen\u021ba dintre r\u0103pitor \u0219i captiv, dintre cet\u0103\u021bean \u0219i \u021bar\u0103, dintre individ \u0219i propria sa mo\u0219tenire. Cu sensibilitate \u0219i for\u021b\u0103, Dalia Sofer dezv\u0103luie vie\u021bile interioare ale unei genera\u021bii sacrificate.<\/p>\n<\/div><\/div>\n\n\n\n \u00cen pia\u021b\u0103, solda\u021bii \u00eenarma\u021bi cu pu\u0219ti \u00eei \u00eencercuiser\u0103 pe protesta\u00adtari. Ajunsesem acolo singur, pentru c\u0103 Minoo se \u00eemboln\u0103vise de grip\u0103. Am str\u00e2ns un cap\u0103t al pr\u0103jinii de lemn, de care\u2011mi ata\u0219asem stindardul, \u00een palma n\u0103cl\u0103it\u0103, iar o femeie de l\u00e2ng\u0103 mine \u2013 o student\u0103 dr\u0103gu\u021b\u0103, cu pantofi cu platform\u0103 \u2013 a lu\u00adat\u2011o de cap\u0103tul cel\u0103lalt. Un b\u0103rbat din fa\u021ba noastr\u0103 purta un b\u0103ie\u021bel pe umeri, ceea ce pe mine m\u2011a reconfortat: dac\u0103 era \u0219i un copil de fa\u021b\u0103, \u00eemi spuneam \u00een sinea mea, providen\u021ba n\u2011ar fi l\u0103sat s\u0103 ni se \u00eent\u00e2mple nimic r\u0103u. Acela\u0219i g\u00e2nd avu\u00adsese darul s\u0103 m\u0103 lini\u0219teasc\u0103 ori de c\u00e2te ori m\u0103 suisem \u00een\u00adtr\u2011un avion, p\u00e2n\u0103 atunci.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Pe m\u0103sur\u0103 ce ne\u2011am \u00eenmul\u021bit, energia mul\u021bimii n\u2011a mai putut fi \u021binut\u0103 \u00een fr\u00e2u, a\u0219a \u00eenc\u00e2t am \u00eenceput s\u0103 ne rev\u0103rs\u0103m, la \u00eenceput mai \u00eencet, dar apoi \u00eentr\u2011un ritm frenetic, b\u0103rba\u021bi \u0219i femei dispers\u00e2ndu\u2011se de\u2011a lungul \u0219i de\u2011a latul pie\u021bei, \u00een toate direc\u021biile. Dintr\u2011odat\u0103, femeia de l\u00e2ng\u0103 mine a dat drumul pr\u0103jinii de la cap\u0103tul ei, \u0219i partea st\u00e2ng\u0103 a stindardului meu, ajung\u00e2nd s\u2011at\u00e2rne pe caldar\u00e2m, a fost c\u0103lcat\u0103 \u00een picioare sub trop\u0103iturile protestatarilor.<\/p>\n\n\n\n C\u00e2nd am auzit primul foc de arm\u0103, nici m\u0103car nu mi s\u2011a p\u0103rut real \u2013 a r\u0103sunat ca un sughi\u021bmetalic. Dar, c\u00e2nd r\u0103p\u0103\u00aditul pu\u0219tilor a \u00eenceput s\u0103 se rostogoleasc\u0103 pe sub cerul de septembrie \u0219i\u2011am v\u0103zut acela\u0219i caldar\u00e2m pres\u0103rat cu cada\u00advre \u0219i \u00eempro\u0219cat cu s\u00e2nge, am dat \u0219i eu drumul pr\u0103jinii de la cap\u0103tul meu \u0219i\u2011am fugit \u2013 c\u0103tre b\u0103rbatul cu semnul din na\u0219tere \u00een form\u0103 de corn de cerb, care st\u0103tea, \u00een continuare, nemi\u0219cat l\u00e2ng\u0103 chio\u0219c. Mi\u2011a f\u0103cut semn s\u0103 m\u0103 las la p\u0103m\u00e2nt, al\u0103turi de el, \u0219i\u2011a b\u0103gat m\u00e2na \u00eentr-o geant\u0103 de bowling, de unde a scos o sticl\u0103 cu fitil, a dat foc fitilului cu un chibrit aprins, dup\u0103 care a zv\u00e2rlit\u2011o \u00een direc\u021bia solda\u021bilor. Mi\u2011a spus: \u201eFugi!\u201d, lu\u00e2nd\u2011o la fug\u0103 el \u00eensu\u0219i, iar eu l\u2011am urmat, printre u\u0219ile sparte, \u00een foaierul cinematografului, \u00eentorc\u00e2ndu\u2011mi capul \u00eentruna, ca s\u0103 v\u0103d cum exploda cocteilul Molotov[1]<\/a>, pe care\u2011l aruncase, \u0219i cum fugeau \u00een toate p\u0103r\u021bile solda\u021bii, la fel de teroriza\u021bi ca \u0219i noi.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201eSofer realizeaz\u0103 cu compasiune, \u00een\u021belegere \u0219i umor necru\u021b\u0103tor portretul unui b\u0103rbat prea inteligent ca s\u0103 ignore cu des\u0103v\u00e2r\u0219ire consecin\u021bele comportamentului s\u0103u \u0219i, totodat\u0103, neputincios ca s\u0103 reziste momentului istoric tumultuos.\u201d \u2013 Kirkus <\/em><\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n Era pustiu foaierul cinematografului. Ultima dat\u0103, fusesem acolo cu c\u00e2teva luni mai \u00eenainte, cu tat\u0103l meu, s\u0103 vedem Spi\u00adonul care m\u2011a iubit[2]<\/a><\/strong><\/em>. De\u0219i noi abia ne mai vorbeam la vremea respectiv\u0103, nu renun\u021baser\u0103m la ritualul vizion\u0103rii de filme cu James Bond, pe care tat\u0103l meu, cu toate aerele lui savante, le adora. C\u00e2nd mi\u2011am reamintit cum st\u0103tuser\u0103m al\u0103turi unul de altul, \u00eemp\u0103r\u021bind aceea\u0219i pung\u0103 de semin\u021be de floarea\u2011soare\u00adlui, fascina\u021bi de spioni, \u0219i submarine, \u0219i de un asasin cu din\u021bi metalici, c\u0103ruia i se spunea \u201eF\u0103lci\u201d[3]<\/a>, m\u2011am sim\u021bit cuprins de regrete profunde, \u0219tiind ce urma s\u0103 fac.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2014 Ai v\u0103zut cum i\u2011am aruncat \u00een aer? a zis omul cu semnul din na\u0219tere, abia tr\u0103g\u00e2ndu\u2011\u0219i sufletul. Ca o bomb\u0103 \u00eempotriva g\u00e2ndacilor \u00eentr\u2011o cas\u0103 infestat\u0103 \u2013 \u0219i s\u2011a \u0219ters pe fa\u021ba \u00eenro\u0219it\u0103 cu un \u0219ervet de vase p\u0103tat cu ceva uleios. M\u2011am uitat la el mai bine \u0219i de aproape: musta\u021ba ca de Stalin \u00eel f\u0103cea s\u0103 par\u0103 mai b\u0103tr\u00e2n dec\u00e2t era, cu toate c\u0103 nu putea fi cu mai mult de \u0219ase\u2011\u0219apte ani mai mare dec\u00e2t mine. Mi\u2011a spus: Mostafa Akbari m\u0103 numesc, \u0219i\u2011a b\u0103gat iar m\u00e2na \u00een geanta de bowling, de unde a scos \u00eenc\u0103 o sticl\u0103 plin\u0103 cu benzin\u0103, care avea \u00eenfipt \u00een ea un fitil \u00eembibat cu alcool. Mi\u2011a \u00eentins\u2011o, \u00eempreun\u0103 cu o cutie de chibrituri, \u0219i\u2011a zis: Acum, e r\u00e2ndul t\u0103u.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Am luat sticla din m\u00e2na lui, am a\u0219ezat\u2011o pe jos \u0219i\u2011am aprins un chibrit. Dar m\u00e2inile \u00eemi tremurau \u0219i n\u2011am putut s\u0103 dau foc fitilului. Mi\u2011a stins el flac\u0103ra dintre degete.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2014 Dup\u0103 ce\u2011aprinzi fitilul, mi\u2011a spus, ai cel mult o secund\u0103, \u00een care s\u2011arunci Molotov\u2011ul. Dac\u0103 nu, explodeaz\u0103 chiar aici \u0219i ne transform\u0103 pe\u2011am\u00e2ndoi \u00een abgu\u0219t <\/em>\u2013 chiseli\u021b\u0103 ne face.<\/p>\n\n\n\n M\u2011am g\u00e2ndit la Minoo, \u00een momentul acela, \u0219i la febra ei. Ce\u2011ar fi zis ea, s\u0103 m\u0103 vad\u0103 cu un cocteil Molotov \u00een m\u00e2n\u0103?<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2014 Nu pot face asta, i\u2011am spus lui Akbari.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2014 Nu pari s\u0103 fii neputincios, a zis el. Sau, poate, e\u0219ti?<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2014 E\u2011o treab\u0103 filozofic\u0103, i\u2011am spus. Cum s\u0103\u2011\u021bi explic? Un angajament de partea nonviolen\u021bei.<\/p>\n\n\n\n R\u00e2sul arogant i s\u2011a pierdut \u00een vacarmul \u00eempu\u0219c\u0103turilor \u0219i\u2011al \u021bipetelor din afara cinematografului.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
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