"Ian Watson - Stalin's Teardrops" - читать интересную книгу автора (Watson Ian)Stalin's Teardrops
round and round." "We'll see!" Hitching herself, she marched off. I headed to Koshka's flat, where pickles and black caviar sandwiches, cold cuts and mushroom and spirit were waiting; and Koshka herself, and her warm sheets. Towards midnight, in the stillness I heard faint footsteps outside so I rose and looked down from her window. A slim shadowy form paced wearily along the pavement below, moving out of sight. After a while the figure returned along the opposite pavement, helplessly retracing the same route. "What is it, Valentin?" came my mistress's voice. "Why don't you come back to bed?" "It's nothing important, my love," I said. "Just a street walker, all alone." Part II: Into the Other Country When Peterkin was a lad, the possibilities for joy seemed limitless. He would become a famous artist. He dreamed of sensual canvases shamelessly ablush with pink flesh, peaches, orchid blooms. Voluptuous models would disrobe for him and sprawl upon a velvet teasing to his palate as stimulating of his palette. Why did he associate naked ladies with platters of gourmet cuisine? Was it because those ladies were spread for consumption? How he had lusted for decent food when he was young. And how he had hungered for the flesh. Here, no doubt, was the origin of the equation between feasting and love. Peterkin felt no desire to eat human flesh. He never even nibbled his own fingers. The prospect of tooth marks indenting a human body nauseated him. Love-bites were abhorrent. No, he yearnedтАФas it wereтАФto absorb a woman's body. Libido, appetite, and art were one. Alas for his ambitions, the requirements of the Party had cemented him into a career niche in the secret police building in Dzerzhinsky file:///G|/Program%20Files/eMule/Incoming/Ian%20Watson%20-%20Stalin's%20Teardrops.html (11 of 30) [1/3/2005 11:18:53 PM] Stalin's Teardrops Square; on the eighth floor, to be precise, in the cartography department. Not for him a paint brush but all those damnable map projections. Cylindrical, conical, azimuthal. Orthographic, gnomonic. Sinusoidal, polyconic. Not Matisse, but Mercator. Not Gauguin but Gall's Stereographic. Not Modigliani but |
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