A book that my mother was sure she had bought
for my dad. Too bad it read “To Gio from your mom – Christmas 2003” on its
inside cover. I’m quite sure she also bought one for my dad back in the day,
and probably she gave it to him because Rabbit is a basketball player, the same
reason why she gave it to me (that, and because it’s a great read). Still, the
copy that was on my bookshelf for the past dozen years was definitely mine.
Like so many of my favourite books, Rabbit, Run is about ... No, it’s not
about Italian Fascism – it’s about American suburban life and about the titular
Rabbit (who actually has a name – Harry Angstrom – but let’s face it his
nickname is a lot cooler). Like Americal
Pastoral, this book is about the sad life of a former high-school sports
star – except that in this case Rabbit is much more responsible for his own
downfall than Seymour is. His decisions are misguided, his life is miserable
and it’s his fault, he makes people suffer, only he can believe (and I’m not
even sure he does) the absolute innocence that he professes at the funeral, and
yet I really really wanted him to sort himself out. I don’t think it was just
because he had once been a good basketball player.
And I just love the fact that he doesn’t just
metaphorically try to run away from his problems, he literally runs...
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