"Eddings, David - Regina's Song V2.0" - читать интересную книгу автора (Eddings David) "You plan to teach, then?"
"Probably so-unless I decide to write the Great American Novel." "I've read your papers, Mr. Austin," he said dryly. "You've got a long way to go if that's your goal." "It beats the hell out of pulling chain, Dr. Conrad." "Pulling chain?" I explained it, and he seemed just a bit awed. "Are you saying that people still do that sort of thing?" "It's called ‘working for a living.' I came here because I don't want to do that no more." He winced at my double negative. "Just kidding, boss," I told him. And I don't think anybody'd ever called him "boss" before, because he didn't seem to know how to handle it. By the end of winter quarter that year I'd pretty well settled into the routine of being a working student. There were times when I ran a little short on sleep, but I could usually catch up on weekends. I finished up the spring quarter of 'q4 and spent the summer working at the door factory to build up a backlog of cash. Things had been a little tight a few times that year. The Twinkie Twins were high-school juniors now, and they'd definitely blossomed. Their hair had grown their eyes were an intense blue. They'd also developed some other attributes that attracted lots of attention from their male classmates. Looking back, I'm sometimes puzzled by my lack of "those kinds of thoughts" about the twins. They were moderately gorgeous, after all-tall, blond, well built, and with strangely compelling eyes. It was probably their plurality that put me off. In my mind they were never individuals. I thought of them as "they," but never "she." From what I heard, though, the young fellows at their high school didn't have that problem, and the twins were very popular. The only complaint seemed to be that nobody could ever get one of them off by herself. It was during my senior year at U.W that I finally came face to face with Moby Dick. The opening line, "Call me Ishmael" and the climactic, "I only am escaped to tell thee" set off all sorts of bells in my head. Captain Ahab awed me. You don't want to mess around with a guy who could say, "I'd smite the sun if it offended me." And his obsessive need to avenge himself on the white whale put him in the same class with Hamlet and Othello. Moby Dick has been plowed and planted over and over by generations of scholars much better than I, though, |
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