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From the author of the hit The Evenings - two classic novellas that are considered among Gerard Reve's best work.
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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor
SAM GARRETT has translated some 50 novels and works of nonfiction. He has won prizes and appeared on shortlists for some of the world's most prestigious literary awards, and is the only translator to have twice won the British Society of Authors' Vondel Prize for Dutch-English translation.
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From the author of the hit The Evenings - two classic novellas that are considered among Gerard Reve's best work.
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On a Wednesday afternoon in December,<br> when the weather was dark, I tried to wrench a<br> drainpipe off the back of the house; this without success.<br> Then I took up a hammer and pulverized a few thin<br> twigs from the currant bush atop a post in the garden<br> fence. The weather remained dark.<br> I could think of nothing else to do and went to see<br> Dirk Heuvelberg. (Dirk had, for as far as my memory<br> reached, lived beside us. At the age of four he still had<br> not learned to speak; until the age of three he walked<br> on all fours. I also remember how, when we were little,<br> he would come running to our kitchen door on all<br> fours: he heralded his arrival with great shrieks. When<br> requested to do so, he would eat horse manure from the<br> pavement. Later, he retained the ability to move quickly<br> on his hands and feet and continued to speak with no<br> little difficulty. He liked to claim, with a certain pride,<br> that his tongue was too long and too loosely attached;<br> to support this claim, he would clack it loudly. On that<br> December afternoon as well, in the back room of his<br> house, he spoke awkwardly and unclearly still, his words<br> bursting and stumbling from his lips. He had remained<br> small. I was eleven at the time.)<br> A pale, sallow-skinned boy was playing at Dirk’s—one<br> I had never seen before. Standing by the window, he<br> greeted me falteringly. “He’s Werther Nieland,” Dirk<br> said. From a box of Meccano on the floor they were<br> building a hoist, which they hoped to power by means<br> of a windmill, but they had not started on that part yet.<br> “You’d be better off building the windmill first,” I<br> said. “That’s much more important. You need to know<br> how much power it has before you can figure out how<br> to build the hoist. And whether you need to use a large<br> pulley or a small one. And then of course,” I went on,<br> “you need to pick someone to supervise the construction.<br> Preferably someone who lives, for example, beside<br> the house with the windmill, or close to it.” I spoke this<br> final sentence under my breath, too quietly for them<br> to hear. A brief silence filled the lightless little room.<br> (The wallpaper was a dark brown, all the woodwork<br> was painted dark green and the windows were covered<br> in crocheted curtains the colour of terracotta.)<br> As the silence wore on, I eyed the new boy. He<br> was thin and spindly and a little taller than me. His<br> expression was detached and bored, his lips moist and<br> puffy. He had dark, deep-set eyes, black curls and a low<br> forehead. The skin on his face was blemished and flaky.<br> I felt the urge to in some way torment him or inflict<br> pain on him underhandedly. “Don’t you agree, Werther,<br> that we should build the windmill first?” I asked. “Yes,<br> of course,” he replied diffidently, without meeting my<br> gaze. “He’s a sweet-toothed little creature,” I said to<br> myself, “I know that for a fact.” While Dirk was busy<br> bolting something into place, the two of us looked out<br> of the window at the tilled garden; atop the bare soil<br> lay an old washtub and a couple of weathered planks.<br> A haze of moisture and settling smoke hung between<br> the rooftops. I moved up close to Werther and, without<br> either of them seeing it, feigned punches at his back.<br> Although Dirk too was in agreement with my proposal<br> concerning the windmill, we still did not set about<br> building it right away, but remained sitting together,<br> doing nothing. “Of course, you two don’t have to build<br> a windmill, not if you don’t feel like it,” I said. “But<br> that would be rather silly, for you could learn a great<br> deal from it.” Outside, daylight was beginning to fade.<br> “Listen, Werther,” I said. “Is your house in a very windy<br> spot?” He did not reply. “Then I could come and help<br> you.” I went on: “Then we could build a windmill you<br> can use to operate machines in the kitchen. It would<br> be no problem at all, I have time enough. And making<br> a promise and not keeping it, I would never do that.” I<br> was intent on finding ways to visit him at home.<br> Werther did not respond to my words; perhaps I<br> was not speaking loudly enough, or perhaps it was the<br> faint music coming from a radio somewhere at the<br> front of the house.
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- VerlagPushkin Press
- Erscheinungsdatum2019
- ISBN 10 1782274596
- ISBN 13 9781782274599
- EinbandTapa blanda
- SpracheEnglisch
- Anzahl der Seiten1
- Kontakt zum HerstellerNicht verfügbar
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Childhood: Two Novellas
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Pushkin Press, United Kingdom, London, 2019
ISBN 10: 1782274596
ISBN 13: 9781782274599
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Paperback. Zustand: Very Good. There will be a club. Important messages have been sent already. If anybody wants to ruin it, he will be punished. Eleven-year-old Elmer inhabits a childhood of superstition, private lore and secret societies. When a new boy, pale, spindly Werther, arrives in the neighbourhood, a subtle game of fascination and persecution begins. In wartime Amsterdam, a young boy watches as Germans occupy the city. At first his parents' friends, the Boslowits family, think they have little to fear. Then, slowly, terribly, their fate is sealed. These two haunting novellas, from the acclaimed author of The Evenings, evoke the world of childhood, in all its magic and strangeness, darkness and cruelty. Here, the things seen through a child's eyes are far from innocent. The book has been read, but is in excellent condition. Pages are intact and not marred by notes or highlighting. The spine remains undamaged. Artikel-Nr. GOR010391598
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Childhood
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Childhood : Two Novellas
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Taschenbuch. Zustand: Neu. Neuware - Eleven-year-old Elmer inhabits a childhood of superstition, private lore and secret societies that only certain friends can join (and of which he is always president). When a new boy, pale, spindly Werther, arrives in the neighbourhood, a subtle game of fascination and persecution begins.In wartime Amsterdam, a young boy watches as Germans occupy the city. At first his parents' friends, the Boslowits family, think they have little to fear. Then, slowly, terribly, their fate is sealed.In these two haunting novellas from the acclaimed author of The Evenings, the world of childhood, in all its magic and strangeness, darkness and cruelty, is evoked with piercing wit and dreamlike intensity. Here, the things seen through a child's eyes are far from innocent. Artikel-Nr. 9781782274599
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Childhood
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Zustand: New. From the author of the hit The Evenings - two classic novellas that are considered among Gerard Reve s best work.Über den AutorrnrnGerard Reve (1923-2006) is considered one of the greatest post-war Dutch authors, and was also the first . Artikel-Nr. 276975999
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Childhood: Two Novellas
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Pushkin Press 24/10/2019, 2019
ISBN 10: 1782274596
ISBN 13: 9781782274599
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Zustand: Very Good. This book is in very good condition and will be shipped within 24 hours of ordering. The cover may have some limited signs of wear but the pages are clean, intact and the spine remains undamaged. This book has clearly been well maintained and looked after thus far. Money back guarantee if you are not satisfied. See all our books here, order more than 1 book and get discounted shipping. . Artikel-Nr. 7719-9781782274599
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Childhood: Two Novellas
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Childhood
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Paperback. Zustand: Brand New. combined edition. 160 pages. 7.75x5.00x0.25 inches. In Stock. Artikel-Nr. __1782274596
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