80 Jaar Toni Morrison, Nick McDonell, Bart FM Droog, Huub Beurskens, Elke Erb, Gaston Burssens, Níkos Kazantzákis

80 Jaar Toni Morisson

 

De Afro-Amerikaans schrijfster Toni Morrison werd geboren op 18 februari 1931 in Lorain, Ohio. Zie ook mijn blog van 18 februari 2007 en ook mijn blog van 18 februari 2009 en ook mijn blog van 18 februari 2010. Toni Morisson viert vandaag haar 80e verjaardag.

 

Uit: The Bluest Eye

 

Nuns go by as quiet as lust, and drunken men and sober eyes sing in the lobby of the Greek hotel. Rosemary Villanucci, our next-door friend who lives above her father’s cafe, sits in a 1939 Buick eating bread and butter. She rolls down the window to tell my sister Frieda and me that we can’t come in. We stare at her, wanting her bread, but more than that wanting to poke the arrogance out of her eyes and smash the pride of ownership that curls her chewing mouth. When she comes out of the car we will beat her up, make red marks on her white skin, and she will cry and ask us do we want her to pull her pants down. We will say no. We don’t know what we should feel or do if she does, but whenever she asks us, we know she is offering us something precious and that our own pride must be asserted by refusing to accept.
School has started, and Frieda and I get new brown stockings and cod-liver oil. Grown-ups talk in tired, edgy voices about Zick’s Coal Company and take us along in the evening to the railroad tracks where we fill burlap sacks with the tiny pieces of coal lying about. Later we walk home, glancing back to see the great carloads of slag being dumped, red hot and smoking, into the ravine that skirts the steel mill. The dying fire lights the sky with a dull orange glow. Frieda and I lag behind, staring at the patch of color surrounded by black. It is impossible not to feel a shiver when our feet leave the gravel path and sink into the dead grass in the field.
Our house is old, cold, and green. At night a kerosene lamp lights one large room. The others are braced in darkness, peopled by roaches and mice. Adults do not talk to us — they give us directions. They issue orders without providing information. When we trip and fall down they glance at us; if we cut or bruise ourselves, they ask us are we crazy. When we catch colds, they shake their heads in disgust at our lack of consideration. How, they ask us, do you expect anybody to get anything done if you all are sick? We cannot answer them. Our illness is treated with contempt, foul Black Draught, and castor oil that blunts our minds.“

 

  

Toni Morrison (Lorain, 18 februari 1931)

 

 

Doorgaan met het lezen van “80 Jaar Toni Morrison, Nick McDonell, Bart FM Droog, Huub Beurskens, Elke Erb, Gaston Burssens, Níkos Kazantzákis”

75 Jaar Jean M. Auel, Mór Jókai, Hedwig Courths-Mahler, Alexander Kielland, Audre Lorde, Wallace Stegner

75 Jaar Jean M. Auel

De Amerikaanse schrijfster Jean Marie Auel werd geboren op 18 februari 1936 in Chicago. Zie ook mijn blog van 18 februari 2007 en ook mijn blog van 18 februari 2008 en ook mijn blog van 18 februari 2009 en eveneens mijn blog van 18 februari 2010. Jean M. Auel viert vandaag haar 75e verjaardag. 

 

Uit: The Land of Painted Caves

 

The band of travelers walked along the path between theclear sparkling water of Grass River and theblack-streaked whitelimestone cliff, following the trail that paralleled the right bank. They went single fi le around the bend where the stone wall jutted out closerto the water’s edge. Ahead a smaller path split off at an angletowardthe crossing place, where the fl owing water spread out and becameshallower, bubbling around exposed rocks.Before they reached the fork in the trail, a young woman near thefront suddenly stopped, her eyes opening wide as she stood perfectly still, staring ahead. She pointed with her chin, not wanting to move.“Look! Over there!” she said in a hissing whisper of fear. “Lions!”Joharran, the leader, lifted his arm, signaling the band to a halt. Justbeyond the place where the trail diverged, they now saw  pale-tawny cave lions moving around in the grass. The grass was such effectivecamoufl age, however, that they might not have noticed them untilthey were much closer, if ithadn’t been for the sharp eyes of Thefona.The young woman from the Third Cave had exceptionally good vi-sion, and though she was quite young, she was noted for her ability tosee far and well. Her innate talent had been recognized early and they had begun training her when she was a small girl; she was their bestlookout.Near the back of the group, walking in front of three horses, Aylaand Jondalar looked up to see what was causing the delay.“

 

 

 

Jean M. Auel (Chicago,  18 februari 1936)

 

 

Doorgaan met het lezen van “75 Jaar Jean M. Auel, Mór Jókai, Hedwig Courths-Mahler, Alexander Kielland, Audre Lorde, Wallace Stegner”