|
|
| Author |
Message |
| 25 new of 278 responses total. |
rcurl
|
|
response 158 of 278:
|
May 13 15:44 UTC 1999 |
"It is a long time since I last wrote anything in this book of mine. That
is because things have happened which strongly affected my life and made it
impossible for me to continue with my notes. I could not even get hold of
them, and only now have I had them brought to me here.
"I am sitting chained to the wall in one of the castle dungeons. Until
recently, my hands were also manacled, though that was quite superfluous. I
could not possibly escape. But it was ment to aggravate my punishment. Now
at last I have been freed from them. I do not know why. I have not asked for
it, I have asked for nothing. Thus it is a little more bearable now, though
my condition has not changed. I have persuaded Anselmo my jailer to fetch my
writing materials and notes from the dwarfs' apartment so that I may have some
slight recreation by occupying myself with them. He may have risked something
by getting them for me, for though my hands have been freed it is not at all
certain that they do not begruge me this little pastime. As he sasid, he has
not right to grant me anything, howeever much he may wish it. But he is an
obliging and very simpl;e fellow, so at last I managed to persuade him to do
it.
"I have read through my notes from the beginning, a little every date. It has
been a certain satisfaction thus to relive my own and several others' lives
and once again meditate over everything in the silent hours. I shall now try
to continue from where I left off and thus provide myself with a little
variety in my somewhat monotonous existence."
|
mcnally
|
|
response 159 of 278:
|
May 13 16:23 UTC 1999 |
Dumas?
|
rcurl
|
|
response 160 of 278:
|
May 13 16:46 UTC 1999 |
The younger or elder? Well, I'll give you two for one: a good guess, but
no banana. However, like both Dumases (?), the author is a dead white
male that did not write in English.
|
aruba
|
|
response 161 of 278:
|
May 13 18:12 UTC 1999 |
Hmmm, that eliminates Poe, who would have been my guess.
|
md
|
|
response 162 of 278:
|
May 13 20:18 UTC 1999 |
It has to be Lagerkvist.
|
rcurl
|
|
response 163 of 278:
|
May 13 20:19 UTC 1999 |
You are correct - not Poe. However, the author was undoubtedly influenced by
Poe.
|
rcurl
|
|
response 164 of 278:
|
May 13 20:20 UTC 1999 |
A new record - it is from _The Dwarf_, by Par Lagerkvist (1951 Nobel
Prize winner in literature). I guess I gave too much away too soon...
Back to Michael..
|
md
|
|
response 165 of 278:
|
May 14 03:09 UTC 1999 |
Here's my quote.
"About nine an appearance very unusual began to
demand our attention, a shower of cobwebs falling
from very elevated regions, and continuing, without
any interruption, till the close of the day. These
webs were not single filmy threads, floating in the
air in all directions, but perfect flakes or rags;
some near an inch broad, and five or six long, which
fell with a degree of velocity which showed they
were considerably heavier than the atmosphere.
"On every side as the observer turned his eyes might
he behold a continual succession of fresh flakes
falling into his sight, and twinkling like stars as
they turned their sides towards the sun."
|
md
|
|
response 166 of 278:
|
May 14 13:38 UTC 1999 |
Here's another quote:
"At the foot of this hill, one stage or step from
the uplands, lies the village, which consists of
one single straggling street, three-quarters of
a mile in length, in a sheltered vale, and running
parallel with the Hanger. The houses are
divided from the hill by a vein of stiff clay (good
wheat-land), yet stand on a rock of white stone,
little in appearance removed from chalk; but
seems so far from being calcareous, that it
endures extreme heat. Yet that the freestone
still preserves somewhat that is analogous to
chalk, is plain from the beeches which descend
as low as those rocks extend, and no farther,
and thrive as well on them, where the ground is
steep, as on the chalks.
"The cart-way of the village divides, in a
remarkable manner, two very incongruous soils.
To the south-west is a rank-clay, that requires the
labour of years to render it mellow; while the
gardens to the north-east, and small enclosures
behind, consist of a warm, forward, crumbling
mould, called black malm, which seems highly
saturated with vegetable and animal manure;
and these may perhaps have been the original
site of the town; while the wood and coverts might
extend down to the opposite bank."
|
rcurl
|
|
response 167 of 278:
|
May 14 15:00 UTC 1999 |
Sounds like rural southern England.
|
md
|
|
response 168 of 278:
|
May 14 17:15 UTC 1999 |
Excellent. According to the village's official
web site, it's "on the B3006, and surrounded by
the most beautiful countryside, yet easily
accessible from the A3, M3, A31 and A27.
There is free parking in the village car park
which also accommodates coaches." (The
place has become a bit of a tourist mecca
for those wishing to see the village and the
above-mentioned Hanger, and tread the very
path cut by the author and his brother.)
|
rcurl
|
|
response 169 of 278:
|
May 14 18:43 UTC 1999 |
I'll try, Jane Austen.
|
md
|
|
response 170 of 278:
|
May 14 19:10 UTC 1999 |
Not Jane Austen.
|
rcurl
|
|
response 171 of 278:
|
May 14 20:50 UTC 1999 |
(..and I can't read. It said, "the author and HIS brother" (emphasis added).)
|
md
|
|
response 172 of 278:
|
May 14 21:07 UTC 1999 |
True. Anyway, he's a dead white Brit.
|
md
|
|
response 173 of 278:
|
May 14 21:22 UTC 1999 |
He was of an older generation than Austen, too.
I haven't looked up their dates, but I doubt
if they overlap. Here's one last quote:
"The grasshopper-lark began his sibilous note
in my fields last Saturday. Nothing can be more
amusing than the whisper of this little bird,
which seems to be close by though at an hundred
yards distance; and, when close at your ear, is
scarce any louder than when a great way off.
Had I not been a little acquainted with insects,
and known that the grasshopper kind is not yet
hatched, I should have hardly believed but that
it had been a locust whispering in the bushes.
The country people laugh when you tell them that
it is the note of a bird. It is a most artful
creature, skulking in the thickest part of a
bush; and will sing at a yard distance, provided
it be concealed. I was obliged to get a person
to go on the other side of the hedge where it
haunted; and then it would run, creeping like a
mouse, before us for a hundred yards together,
through the bottom of the thorns; yet it would
not come into fair sight: but in a morning early,
and when undisturbed, it sings on the top of a
twig, gaping and shivering with its wings.
Mr. Ray himself had no knowledge of this bird,
but received his account from Mr. Johnson, who
apparently confounds it with the reguli non
cristati, from which it is very distinct. See
Ray's Philosophical Letters, p. 108."
|
remmers
|
|
response 174 of 278:
|
May 14 23:18 UTC 1999 |
Older than Austen, eh? And here I was going to guess Thomas
Hardy.
Whoever it is appears to be quite the naturalist. I wonder if
that's what he's primarily known for.
|
davel
|
|
response 175 of 278:
|
May 15 01:35 UTC 1999 |
Wild guess: Boswell?
|
md
|
|
response 176 of 278:
|
May 15 03:13 UTC 1999 |
Not Boswell, not Hardy. Yes, he is primarily
known as a nature writer. His book is as
readable and charming throughout as these
quotes suggest. It used to be more popular
than it is now, and is said to have influenced
Thoreau.
|
rcurl
|
|
response 177 of 278:
|
May 15 04:05 UTC 1999 |
Gilbert White, _The Natural History of Selborne_. I was looking further
south, in Dorset, but Hampshire was more fruitful. I don't think I've
read any of White (except here).
|
md
|
|
response 178 of 278:
|
May 15 12:25 UTC 1999 |
Gilbert White it is. I'm a little surprised
Rane doesn't have a well-read copy of The
Natural History of Selborne gathering dust on
a shelf of childhood favorites. Here's what
the charmingly named Hantsweb has to say about
Selborne:
"The attractive village of Selborne and its
beautiful countryside is famous for its
association with the 18th century naturalist
Gilbert White. In his book The Natural History
of Selborne, he meticulously records his
observations on the plants, birds and animals
of this lovely part of Hampshire.
"The Reverend Gilbert White (1720-1793) is
regarded as England's first ecologist. He lived
at "The Wakes" most of his life. The rooms have
been furnished in the 18th century style and
include items of his furniture, beautifully
embroidered bed hangings and portraits of his
family. The original manuscript is also on display."
Highly recommended if you ever get over there.
The book is very highly recommended.
Rane's up.
|
md
|
|
response 179 of 278:
|
May 15 12:27 UTC 1999 |
This response has been erased.
|
md
|
|
response 180 of 278:
|
May 15 12:27 UTC 1999 |
See http://www.hants.gov.uk/ for more on
today's Selborne and Hampshire.)
|
rcurl
|
|
response 181 of 278:
|
May 15 16:33 UTC 1999 |
I have to ransack my library for something I haven't already used...it is
getting tougher. It might take a couple of days as I will be tied up later
today and tomorrow.
|
davel
|
|
response 182 of 278:
|
May 15 23:56 UTC 1999 |
Hmm. I doubt my library is *that* much bigger than yours, Rane, & I'm a long
way from running out. Of course, a good many would be unreasonably obscure
in this environment, but ...
|