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b7d54f3
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Morale was deteriorating and it was all Yossarian's fault. The country was in peril; he was jeopardizing his traditional rights of freedom and independence by daring to exercise them.
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war
yossarian
wwii
ironic
rights
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Joseph Heller |
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9791e70
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To Yossarian, the idea of pennants as prizes was absurd. No money went with them, no class privileges. Like Olympic medals and tennis trophies, all they signified was that the owner had done something of no benefit to anyone more capably than everyone else.
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yossarian
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Joseph Heller |
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903cbcb
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I'm not running away from my responsibilities. I'm running to them. There's nothing negative about running away to save my life.
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joseph-heller
yossarian
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Joseph Heller |
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0c8f63a
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So many things were testing his faith. There was the Bible, of course, but the Bible was a book, and so were Bleak House, Treasure Island, Ethan Frome and The Last of the Mohicans. Did it then seem probable, as he had once overheard Dunbar ask, that the answers to riddles of creation would be supplied by people too ignorant to understand the mechanics of rainfall? Had Almighty God, in all His infinite wisdom, really been afraid that men six thousand years ago would succeed in building a tower to heaven?
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joseph-heller
yossarian
catch-22
god
new-testament
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Joseph Heller |
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e81b7b7
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"Four times during the first six days they were assembled and briefed and then sent back. Once, they took off and were flying in formation when the control tower summoned them down. The more it rained, the worse they suffered. The worse they suffered, the more they prayed that it would continue raining. All through the night, men looked at the sky and were saddened by the stars. All through the day, they looked at the bomb line on the big, wobbling easel map of Italy that blew over in the wind and was dragged in under the awning of the intelligence tent every time the rain began. The bomb line was a scarlet band of narrow satin ribbon that delineated the forward most position of the Allied ground forces in every sector of the Italian mainland. For hours they stared relentlessly at the scarlet ribbon on the map and hated it because it would not move up high enough to encompass the city. When night fell, they congregated in the darkness with flashlights, continuing their macabre vigil at the bomb line in brooding entreaty as though hoping to move the ribbon up by the collective weight of their sullen prayers. "I really can't believe it," Clevinger exclaimed to Yossarian in a voice rising and falling in protest and wonder. "It's a complete reversion to primitive superstition. They're confusing cause and effect. It makes as much sense as knocking on wood or crossing your fingers. They really believe that we wouldn't have to fly that mission tomorrow if someone would only tiptoe up to the map in the middle of the night and move the bomb line over Bologna. Can you imagine? You and I must be the only rational ones left." In the middle of the night Yossarian knocked on wood, crossed his fingers, and tiptoed out of his tent to move the bomb line up over Bologna."
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war
bologna
yossarian
catch-22
prayer
funny
inspiration
humor
hope
rational
meditation
superstition
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Joseph Heller |
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16b64c7
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"As far back as Yossarian could recall, he explained to Clevinger with a patient smile, somebody was always hatching a plot to kill him. There were people who cared for him and people who didn't, and those who hated him were out to get him. They hated him because he was Assyrian. But they couldn't touch him, he told Clevinger, because he had a sound mind in a pure body and was as strong as an ox. They couldn't touch him because he was Tarzan, Mandrake, Flash Gordon. He was Bill Shakespeare. He was Cain, Ulysses, the Flying Dutchman; he was Lot in Sodom, Deirdre of the Sorrows, Sweeney in the nightingales among trees. He was miracle ingredient Z-247. He was - Crazy!" Clevinger interrupted, shrieking. "That's what you are! Crazy!" "immense. I'm a real slam-bang, honest-to-goodness, three-fisted humdinger. I'm a bona fide Supraman." "Superman?" Clevinger cried. "Superman?" Supraman," Yossarian corrected."
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yossarian
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Joseph Heller |
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64f9cfe
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"- Kad sam bio klinac - odvrati Orr - hodao sam po cijeli dan s divljim jabukama u ustima. S po jednom ispod svakog obraza. Yossarian odlozi torbicu iz koje je poceo vaditi toaletne potrepstine, pa se sumnjicavo sav ukruti. Prode jedna minuta. - A zasto? - nije mogao da najposlije ne zapita. Orr se slavodobitno naceri. - Zato sto su bolje nego divlje kestenje - odgovori. Orr je klecao na podu satora. Radio je bez predaha, rastavljao ventil, pomno rasprostirao sve sicusne djelice, brojio ih i onda beskonacno proucavao svaki pojedini od njih, kao da nikad u zivotu nije vidio nista ni priblizno slicno, pa onda ponovo sastavljao cijeli mali mehanizam, pa opet, i opet, i opet, i opet, a da nije ni najmanje gubio strpljenje ni zanimanje, niti pokazivao znakove umora ni namjeru da ikad zavrsi posao. Yossarian ga je promatrao kako se bakce, i bio je uvjeren da ce biti prisiljen da ga ubije s predumisljajem ako ne bude prestao. Pogled mu pade na lovacki noz koji je mrtvac objesio iznad okvira mreze protiv komaraca onoga dana kad je stigao. Noz je visio uz mrtvacevu praznu koznu futrolu iz koje je Havermayer ukrao revolver. - Kad nisam mogao doci do divljih jabuka - nastavi Orr - uzimao sam divlje kestenove. Divlji kestenovi su otprilike iste velicine kao divlje jabuke i zapravo imaju bolji oblik, iako oblik nije uopce vazan. - A zasto si nosio divlje jabuke u ustima? - upita ga iznova Yossarian. - To sam te pitao. - Zato sto imaju bolji oblik nego divlji kestenovi - odgovori Orr - Upravo sam ti to sad rekao. - A zasto si ti - opsova Yossarian i zadivljeno - zlopogledo, odrode i kuckin sine sa sklonoscu za tehniku, nosio bilo sta u ustima? - Ja nisam nosio bilo sta u ustima - rece Orr - Ja sam nosio divlje jabuke u ustima. Kad nisam imao divlje jabuke, nosio sam divlje kestenove. U ustima. Orr se kesio. Yossarian odluci da suti i sutio je. Orr je cekao. Yossarian je cekao dulje. - Po jedan ispod svakog obraza - rece Orr. - Zasto? Orr to jedva doceka. - Kako zasto? Yossarian odmahnu glavom smjeskajuci se i ne hoteci dalje govoriti. - Nesto je cudno na ovom ventilu - razmisljase Orr naglas. - Sta to? - priupita Yossarian. - Zato sto sam htio... Yossarian je vec znao. - Isuse Kriste! Zasto si htio... - ... Da imam obraze kao jabuke. - ... Da imas obraze kao jabuke? - pripita Yossarian. - Htio sam da imam obraze kao jabuke - ponovi Orr. - Jos dok sam bio klinac, htio sam da jednom imam obraze kao jabuke, pa sam odlucio da radim na tome dok ih ne dobijem, i bogami sam radio dok ih nisam dobio, a eto vidis kako sam to postigao, noseci divlje jabuke u ustima po cijele dane. On se ponovo naceri. - Po jednu ispod svakog obraza. - A zasto si htio da imas obraze kao jabuke? - Nisam ja htio da imam obraze kao jabuke - rece Orr. - Ja sam htio da imam velike obraze. Nije mi bilo toliko stalo do boje, samo sam htio da budu veliki. Radio sam na tome bas kao oni ludaci o kojima pisu u novinama kako po cijele dane stiscu gumene lopte samo zato da ojacaju ruke. Zapravo sam i ja bio jedan od tih ludaka. I ja sam po cijele dane nosio u rukama lopte. - Zasto? - Kako zasto? - Zasto si po cijele dane nosio u rukama lopte? - Zato sto su lopte... - poce Orr. - ... Bolje nego divlje jabuke?
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kesteni
obrazi
orr
yossarian
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Joseph Heller Kvaka 22 |