Archive for 25 november, 2008

Tisdagsförströelse 40

Förra veckans citat kom, som kommentatorsbåset mycket riktigt ganska snart kom fram till, ur Norman Mailers ”Hårda killar dansar inte”. En bok som jag faktiskt är osäker på om jag har läst. Den har funnits i mitt bibliotek i minst tjugofem år så det borde jag ha gjort.

Nåväl, var kommer detta ifrån? Här talar vi om en helt annan målgrupp.

It was broad daylight when Taran opened his eyes. Gurgi was already sniffing hungrily at the saddlebag. Taran rose quickly and shared out as much of the remaining provisions as he dared, keeping a small amount in reserve, since he had no idea how difficult it would be to find food during the coming journey. In the course of the restless night, he had reached his decision, though at present he refrained from speaking of it, still uncertain if he had chosen wisely. For the moment he concentrated on a meagre breakfast.
Gurgi, sitting crosslegged, devoured his food with so many outcries of pleasure and loud smackings of his lips that he seemed to be eating twice as much as he really did. Fflewddur bolted his scant portion as though he had not enjoyed a meal for at least five days. Eilonwy was more interested in the sword she had taken from the barrow. It lay across her knees and, with a perplexed frown, the tip of her tongue between her lips, the girl was studying the weapon curiously.
As Taran drew near, Elionwy snatched the sword away. ‘Well,’ said Taran, with a laugh, ‘you needn’t act as if I were going to steal it from you.’ Although jewels studded the hilt and pommel, the scabbard was battered, discoloured, nearly black with age. For all that, it had an air of ancient lineage, and Taran was eager to hold it. ‘Come,’ he said, ‘let me see the blade.’


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