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Une jeune fille se tenait devant lui, debout dans le ruisseau, seule et tranquille, regardant vers le large. On eu t dit un e tre transforme par magie en un oiseau de mer, e trange et beau. Ses jambes nues, longues et fines, e taient de licates comme celles d'un ibis, et immacule es, sauf a l'endroit ou un ruban d'algue couleur d'e meraude s'e tait incruste a la manie re d'un signe sur la chair. Ses cuises plus pleines, nuance es comme l'ivoire, e taient de couvertes presque jusqu'aux hanches, ou les volants blancs du pantalon figuraient le duvet d'un plumage flou et blanc. Ses jupes bleu ardoise, cra nement retrousse s jusqu'a la taille, retombaient par-derrie re en queue de pigeon ; sa poitrine e tait pareille a celle d'un oiseau, tendre et lisse, lisse et tendre comme la gorge de quelque tourterelle aux sombres plumes ; mais ses longs cheveux blonds e taients ceux d'un enfants...… (plus d'informations)
mArC0: These are both stories where the young artist is trying to break free of a culture that they find beautiful and oppressive: The mountain and the valley.
My audible version was marvelously read by Colin Farrell. I am sure I'd have never made it through this reading myself. I enjoyed the first third or so, but the lengthy spell of heavy Catholicism alternately reminded me why I left the church and put me to sleep. Still, between this and The Dead, I have concluded I like Joyce and his wild longwinded style. ( )
"Øynene hennes hadde kalt på ham, og sjelen hans hadde sprunget henne i møte. Å leve, å feile, å falle, å seire, å gjenskape liv av liv! En vill engel hadde vist seg for ham, ungdommens og skjønnhetens - forgjengelighetens engel, et sendebud fra livets fagre hoff som var kommet for i et øyeblikk av ekstase å åpne for ham porten inn til all verdens synd og herlighet. Videre og videre ... "
Stephen Dedalus er et portrett av James Joyce som ung mann. Historien om Stephen Dedalus ble påbegynt i 1904, først påtenkt som novelle under tittelen Stephen Hero, etter hvert utviklet til en roman. Deler ble først trykt i tidsskrifter; hele boken utkom i USA i 1916, i England året etter.
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Con deidica di Simone
Premiers mots
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Once upon a time and a very good time it was there was a moocow coming down along the road and this moocow that was down along the road met a nicens little boy named baby tuckoo....
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Sometimes a fever gathered within him and led him to rove alone in the evening along the quiet avenue. The peace of the gardens and the kindly lights in the windows poured a tender influence into his restless heart. The noise of children at play annoyed him and their silly voices made him feel, even more keenly than he had felt at Clongowes, that he was different from others. He did not want to play. He wanted to meet in the real world the unsubstantiated image which his soul so constantly beheld. He did not know where to seek it or how, but a premonition which led him on told him that this image would, without any overt act of his, encounter him. They would meet quietly as if they had known each other and had made their tryst, perhaps at one of the gates or in some more secret place. They would be alone, surrounded by darkness and silence: and in that moment of supreme tenderness he would be transfigured.
O! In the virgin womb of the imagination the word was made flesh. Gabriel the seraph had come to the virgin's chamber. An afterglow deepened within his spirit, whence the white flame had passed, deepening to a rose and ardent light.
The verses passed from his mind to his lips and, murmuring them over, he felt the rhythmic movement of a villanelle pass through them. The roselike glow sent forth its rays of rhyme; ways, days, blaze, praise, raise. Its rays burned up the world, consumed the hearts of men and angels: the rays from the rose that was her wilful heart. / Your eyes have set man’s heart ablaze And you have had your will of him. Are you not weary of ardent ways? And then? The rhythm died away, ceased, began again to move and beat. And then? Smoke, incense ascending from the altar of the world. / Above the flame the smoke of praise Goes up from ocean rim to rim Tell no more of enchanted days.
Derniers mots
Informations provenant du Partage des connaissances anglais.Modifiez pour passer à votre langue.
27 April: Old father, old artificer, stand me now and ever in good stead.
Une jeune fille se tenait devant lui, debout dans le ruisseau, seule et tranquille, regardant vers le large. On eu t dit un e tre transforme par magie en un oiseau de mer, e trange et beau. Ses jambes nues, longues et fines, e taient de licates comme celles d'un ibis, et immacule es, sauf a l'endroit ou un ruban d'algue couleur d'e meraude s'e tait incruste a la manie re d'un signe sur la chair. Ses cuises plus pleines, nuance es comme l'ivoire, e taient de couvertes presque jusqu'aux hanches, ou les volants blancs du pantalon figuraient le duvet d'un plumage flou et blanc. Ses jupes bleu ardoise, cra nement retrousse s jusqu'a la taille, retombaient par-derrie re en queue de pigeon ; sa poitrine e tait pareille a celle d'un oiseau, tendre et lisse, lisse et tendre comme la gorge de quelque tourterelle aux sombres plumes ; mais ses longs cheveux blonds e taients ceux d'un enfants...
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Bibliothèque patrimoniale: James Joyce
James Joyce a une bibliothèque historique. Les bibliothèques historiques sont les bibliothèques personnelles de lecteurs connus, qu'ont entrées des utilisateurs de LibraryThing inscrits au groupe Bibliothèques historiques [en anglais].
4.5 (