"Patricia A. McKillip - The Lion and the Lark" - читать интересную книгу автора (McKillip Patricia A)THE LION AND THE LARK
Patricia A. McKillip Patricia A. McKillip, winner of the World Fantasy Award, is one of the very finest writers working in the field today. She has published many wonderful books, including The Forgotten Beasts of Eld, Stepping from the Shadows, Fool's Run, and The Cygnet and the Firebird. Her most recent works are Something Rich and Strange and The Book of Atrix Wolfe, both highly recommended. McKillip grew up in America, Germany, and England, and now livcs in the Catskill Mountains of New York. "The Lion and the Lark" is a literary fairy tale reminiscent of such old folktales as "Beauty and the Beast," "The Falcon King," or "East of the Sun, West of the Moon'' It is a thoughtful and poetic story that poses the question How much can love stand? The story is reprinted from The Armless Maiden. There was once a merchant who lived in an ancient and magical city with his three daughters. They were all very fond of each other, and as happy as those with love and leisure and wealth can afford to be. The eldest, named Pearl, pretended domesticity. She made bread and forgot to let it rise before she baked it; she pricked her fingers sewing black satin garters; she inflicted such oddities as eggplant soup and barley muffins on her long-suffering family. She was very beautiful, though a trifle awkward and absent-minded, and she had suitors who risked their teeth on her hard, flat bread as boldly as knights of old slew dragons for the gold-rimmed spectacles, and was never without a book or a crossword puzzle at hand. She discoursed learnedly on the origins of the phoenix and the conjunctions of various astrological signs. She had an answer for everything, and was considered by all her suitors to be wondrously wise. The youngest daughter, called Lark, sang a great deal but never spoke much. Because her voice was so like her mother's, her father doted on her. She was by no means the fairest of the three daughters; she did not shine with beauty or wit. She was pale and slight, with dark eyes, straight, serious brows, and dark braided hair. She had a loving and sensible heart, and she adored her family, though they worried her with their extravagances and foolishness. She wore Pearl's crooked garters, helped Diamond with her crossword puzzles, and heard odd questions arise from deep in her mind when she sang. "What is life?" she would wonder. "What is love? What is man?" This last gave her a good deal to ponder, as she watched her father shower his daughters with chocolates and taffeta gowns and gold bracelets. The young gentlemen who came calling seemed especially puzzling. They sat in their velvet shirts and their leather boots, nibbling bumt cakes and praising Diamond's mind, and all the while their eyes said other things. Now, their eyes said: Now. Then: Patience, patience. You are flowers, their mouths said, you are jewels, you are golden dreams. Their eyes said: I eat flowers, I burn with dreams, I have a tower without a door in my heart and I will keep you there.... |
|
|