The tales Hana had read to the English patient, travelling with the old wanderer in Kim or with Fabrizio in The Charterhouse of Parma, had intoxicated them in a swirl of armies and horses and wagonsthose running away from or running towards a war.Whe

发表于:2018-12-18 / 阅读(57) / 评论(0) 分类 有声英语文学名著

with no identification, unrecognizable. You should be trying to trick me, the burned pilot told his interrogators, make me speak German, which I can, by the way, Ask me about Marmite, the great Gertrude Jekyll. The sea hospital was created out of bat

发表于:2018-12-18 / 阅读(63) / 评论(0) 分类 有声英语文学名著

He had approached the villa on that night of the storm not out of curiosity about the music but because of a danger to the piano player. The retreating army often left pencil mines within musical instruments. Returning owners opened up pianos and los

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(maps, diary entries, writings in many languages, paragraphs cut out of other books.)All that is missing is his own name. There is still no clue to who he actually is, nameless, without rank or battalion or squadron. Hana was carrying a long mirr

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The way Hana broke in Santa Chiara Hospital when an official walked down the space between a hundred beds and gave her a letter that told her of the death of her father. A white lion. It was sometime after this that she had come across the English pa

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As he passed the lamps in the long hall they flung his shadow forward ahead of him. She turned up the wick on the oil lamp so it enlarged the diameter of light around her. She sat very still, the book on her lap, as he came up to her and then crouche

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In the morning by the fountain they talk tentatively. Now you are in Italy you should find out more about Verdi. Caravaggio said. What? She looks up from the bedding that she is washing out in the fountain. He reminds her. You told me once you were i

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He is watching her, waiting for her to say more, but there is nothing more about the English patient to be said.Maybe this is the way to come out of a war, he thinks. A burned man to care for, some sheets to wash in a fountain, a room painted like a

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Then I was accidentally photographed. Can you imagine that? I was in a tuxedo, a monkey suit, in order to get into this gathering, a party, to steal some papers. Really I was still a thief. No great patriot. No great hero. They had just made my skill

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Caravaggio leaves the party in a car. It crunches over the slowly curving gravel path leading out of the grounds, the automobile purring, serene as ink within the summer night. For the rest of the evening during the Villa Cosima gathering he had been

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Then there is blackness. He doesnt know whether to move, whether she will whisper to the man fucking her about the other person in the room. A naked thief. A naked assassin. Should he movehis hands out to break a necktowards the couple on the bed? He

发表于:2018-12-18 / 阅读(57) / 评论(0) 分类 有声英语文学名著

Caravaggio watches Hana, who sits across from him looking into his eyes, trying to read him, trying to figure the flow of thought the way his wife used to do. He watches her darkness against the brown-and-red walls, her skin, her cropped dark hair. H

发表于:2018-12-18 / 阅读(76) / 评论(0) 分类 有声英语文学名著

They had had no piano. She used to go to the community centre on Saturday mornings and play there, but all week she practised wherever she was, learning the chalked notes that her mother had drawn onto the kitchen table and then wiped off later. A li

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There was a bearded head beside him in the shallow water of the Arno. He reached towards it but couldnt even nudge it. Light was pouring into the river. He swam up to the surface, parts of which were on fire. When he told Hana the story later that ev

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He had, he thought, said nothing of worth to them. But they let him go, so perhaps he was wrong. Then he had walked along the Via di Santo Spirito to the one geographical location he had hidden away in his brain. Walked past Brunelleschis church towa

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Your name is David Caravaggio, right? They had handcuffed him to the thick legs of an oak table. At one point he rose with it in his embrace, blood pouring away from his left hand, and tried to run with it through the thin door and falling. The woman

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It must have seemed to him that the dognow blocked by Hanas back had turned into a man. Caravaggio collected the dog in his arms and left the room. He poured some water into a bowl for the dog. An old mongrel, older than the war. He sat down with the

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then nestles in his neck. What she holds seems firm, healed. He raises his hands up as if to cup the quarter-moon. They removed both thumbs, Hana. See. They handcuffed me to the table legs. When they cut off my thumbs my hands slipped out of them wit

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and the candles swerving away, not touching your dress but almost touching. We stood up at the end and you walked off the table into his arms. I would remove those bandages on your hands. I am a nurse, you know. Theyre comfortable. Like gloves. How d

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Darkness between Hana and Caravaggio as they walk in the garden. Now he begins to talk in his familiar slow drawl. It was someones birthday party late at night on Danforth Avenue. The Night Crawler restaurant. Do you remember, Hana? Everyone had to s

发表于:2018-12-18 / 阅读(52) / 评论(0) 分类 有声英语文学名著