Läser just nu: Forrest Gump av Winston Groom. Romanen håller ungefär samma klass som filmen. Forrest Gump berättar själv, med allt vad det innebär av komik som uppstår när Forrest, med sin IQ 70, beskriver saker och ting som läsaren men inte han själv förstår. Bortsett från en något fadd smak av fördomsfullhet gentemot människor från Asien är det en underhållande och totalt skruvad – och ibland lite snyftig – historia om USA:s historia.
Tillåter mig att citera ett klipp ur boken: ”After breakfast, the President axe me if I want him to show me aroun the house, an I say, ’Yeah’, an off we go. When we get outside, all them photographer fellers are followin us aroun an then the President decide to set down on a little bench an he say to me, ’Boy, you was wounded, wasn’t you?’ an I nod, an then he say, ’Well, look at this,’ an he pull up his shirt and show me a big ole scar on his stomach where he has had an operation of some kind, an he axe, ’Where was you wounded?’ an so I pull down my pants an show him. Well, all them photographer fellers rush up an start to take pichers, an several folks come running over an I am hustled away to where Colonel Gooch is waitin.
That afternoon back at our hotel, Colonel Gooch suddenly come bustin into my room with a hanful of newspapers an boy is he mad. He begun hollerin an cussin at me an flung the papers down on my bed an there I am, on the front page, showin my big ass an the President is showin his scar. One of the papers has drawn a little black mask over my eyes so they can’t recognize me, like they do with dirty pitchers.
The caption say, ’President Johnson and War Hero Relaxing in the Rose Garden.'”