"Ballard, J G - Drowned Giant" - читать интересную книгу автора (Ballard J G)

fishermen were standing between the immense plinths of the
feet, waving to us like tourists among the columns of some
water-lapped temple on the Nile. For a moment I feared that
the giant was merely asleep and might suddenly stir and clap
his heels together, but his glazed eyes stared skyward, unaware
of the minuscule replicas of himself between his feet.
The fishermen then began a circuit of the corpse, strolling
past the long white flanks of the legs. After a pause to examine
the fingers of the supine hand, they disappeared from sight
between the arm and chest, then re-emerged to survey the
head, shielding their eyes as they gazed up at its Grecian
profile. The shallow forehead, straight high-bridged nose, and
curling lips reminded me of a Roman copy of Praxiteles, and
the elegantly formed cartouches of the nostrils emphasized the
resemblance to sculpture.
Abruptly there was a shout from the crowd, and a hundred
arms pointed toward the sea. With a start I saw that one of the
fishermen had climbed onto the giant's chest and was now
strolling about and signaling to the shore. There was a roar of
surprise and triumph from the crowd, lost in a rushing ava-
lanche of shingle as everyone surged forward across the sand.
As we approached the recumbent figure, which was lying in
a pool of water the size of a field, our excited 'chatter fell away
again, subdued by the huge physical dimensions of this dead
colossus. He was stretched out at a slight angle to the shore, his
legs carried nearer the beach, and this foreshortening had-
disguised his true length. Despite the two fishermen standing
on his abdomen, the crowd formed itself into a wide circle,
groups of people tentatively advancing toward the hands and
feet.
My companions and I walked around the seaward side of the
giant, whose hips and thorax towered above us like the hull of a
stranded ship. His pearl-colored skin, distended by immersion in
salt water, masked the contours of the enormous muscles and
tendons. We passed below the left knee, which was flexed
slightly, threads of damp seaweed clinging to its sides. Draped
loosely across the midriff, and preserving a tenuous propriety,
was a shawl of heavy open-weave material, bleached to a pale
yellow by the water. A strong odor of brine came from the
garment as it steamed in the sun, mingled with the sweet,
potent scent of the giant's skin.
We stopped by his shoulder and gazed up at the motionless
profile. The lips were parted slightly, the open eye cloudy and
occluded, as if injected with some blue milky liquid, but the
delicate arches of the nostrils and eyebrows invested the face
with an ornate charm that belied the brutish power of the chest
and shoulders.
The ear was suspended in mid-air over our heads like a
sculptured doorway. As I raised my hand to touch the
pendulous lobe, someone appeared over the edge of the