"George Alec Effinger - City On Sand" - читать интересную книгу автора (Effinger George Alec)

city and Arcadian life in literature. Shakespeare had used it to
great effect: the regulated behavior of his characters in town
opposed to their irrational, comedic entanglements outside
the city's gates. Somehow the present circumstance
11
 The City on the Sand
by George Alec Effinger


destroyed those myths. Somehow Ernst knew that he didn't
want them destroyed, and he had his headache and the
everlasting morning rain to preserve them another day.
****
As the clock moved on toward midday, the rain stopped.
Ernst leaned back in his chair and waited for the sun to draw
pedestrians from their shelters. He signaled to M. Gargotier,
and the proprietor brought a rag from the bar to mop the
table. Ernst left his seat to check his appearance in the Fée
Blanche's huge, cracked mirror. His clothes were still soaked,
of course, and in the sudden afternoon heat they clung to him
unpleasantly. He ran his hand through his hair, trying to give
it a more raffish, rumpled look, but it was far too wet. M.
Gargotier returned to his place behind the bar, ignoring Ernst.
There were voices from the patio. Ernst sighed and gave up
the bar's muggy darkness.
Outside, the sun made Ernst squint. His headache began
to throb angrily. He went back to his usual table, noticing the
crowd that had collected beyond the café's rusty iron railing.
A few people had come into the Fée Blanche, preferring no
doubt to witness the unknown spectacle from a more
comfortable vantage. It was nearly time for Ernst to change
from anisette to bingara, his afternoon refreshment, but M.
Gargotier was busily serving the newcomers. Ernst waited
impatiently, his tumbler of anisette once again empty. He
stared at the backs of the people lining the sidewalk, unable
for the moment to guess what had attracted them.
“Now,” thought Ernst, “if I look closely enough, I will be
able to recognize the backsides of every person I've ever
12
 The City on the Sand
by George Alec Effinger


known. How tedious the world becomes, once one realizes
that everyone in it can be divided into a dozen or so groups.
That young woman there, ah, a fairly interesting knot of black
hair, attractive legs, a thick waist. If she were to turn around,
her face would be no surprise. Heavy eyebrows, no doubt, full
lips, her upper front teeth protruding just a little. Large
breasts hanging, her shirt cut to expose them, but it is ten