"Connie Willis - Even The Queen" - читать интересную книгу автора (Willis Connie)

might add."
"How are negotiations going, Grandma Karen?" Viola asked.
"They were going extremely well. The Israelis have given the Palestinians half of Jerusalem, and
they've agreed to time-share the Golan Heights." She turned to glare momentarily at me. "They know
the importance of communication." She turned back to Viola. "So why are they picking on you, Viola?
Don't they like your new livein?"
"I am not her livein," Bysshe protested.
I have often wondered how on earth my mother-in-law became a mediator and what she does in all those
negotiation sessions with Serbs and Catholics and North and South Koreans and Protestants and Croats.
She takes sides, jumps to conclusions, misinterprets everything you say, refuses to listen. And yet she
talked South Africa into a Mandelan government and would probably get the Palestinians to observe
Yom Kippur. Maybe she just bullies everyone into submission. Or maybe they have to band together to
protect themselves against her.
Bysshe was still protesting. "I never even met Viola till today. I've only talked to her on the phone a
couple of times."
"You must have done something," Karen said to Viola. "They're obviously out for your blood."
"Not mine," Viola said. "Perdita's. She's joined the Cyclists."
"The Cyclists? I left the West Bank negotiations because you don't approve of Perdita joining a biking
club? How am I supposed to explain this to the president of Iraq? She will not understand, and neither
do I. A biking club!" "The Cyclists do not ride bicycles," Mother said.
"They menstruate," Twidge said.
There was a dead silence of at least a minute, and I thought, it's finally happened. My mother-in-law
and I are actually going to be on the same side of a family argument.
"All this fuss is over Perdita's having her shunt removed?" Karen said finally. "She's of age, isn't she?
And this is obviously a case where personal sovereignty applies. You should know that, Traci. After
all, you're a judge."
I should have known it was too good to be true.
"You mean you approve of her setting back the Liberation twenty years?" Mother said.
"I hardly think it's that serious," Karen said. "There are anti-shunt groups in the Middle East, too, you
know, but no one takes them seriously. Not even the Iraqis, and they still wear the veil."
"Perdita is taking them seriously."
Karen dismissed Perdita with a wave of her black sleeve. "They're a trend, a fad. Like microskirts. Or

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those dreadful electronic eyebrows. A few women wear silly fashions like that for a little while, but you
don't see women as a whole giving up pants or going back to wearing hats."
"But Perdita..." Viola said.
"If Perdita wants to have her period, I say let her. Women functioned perfectly well without shunts for
thousands of years."
Mother brought her fist down on the table. "Women also functioned perfectly well with concubinage,
cholera and corsets," she said, emphasizing each word with her fist. "But that is no reason to take them
on voluntarily, and I have no intention of allowing Perdita--"
"Speaking of Perdita, where is the poor child?" Karen said.
"She'll be here any minute," Mother said. "I invited her to lunch so we could discuss this with her."
"Ha!" Karen said. "So you could browbeat her into changing her mind, you mean. Well, I have no
intention of collaborating with you. I intend to listen to the poor thing's point of view with interest and
an open mind. Respect, that's the key word, and one you all seem to have forgotten. Respect and
common courtesy."