"Henry Kuttner - Cold War" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kuttner Henry)

COLD WAR
by Henry Kuttner (1914-1958)
Thrilling Wonder Stories, October


The third selection by the terrific Kuttners (and to some extent all they
published under whatever name after their marriage owed something to
both) is this charming tale about “just plain folks” who happen to be
mutants. “Cold War” is the last of a series of four stories about the
Hogbens, all of which appeared in Thrilling Wonder Stories—”Exit the
Professor” (October, 1947), “Pile of Trouble” (April, 1948), and “See You
Later” (June, 1949). It’s a shame that they didn’t write a few more,
because they would have made a fine collection.—M.H.G.

(When I first started to write, I attempted, in a few stories, to present
a dialect by means of specialized spelling. No doubt I wasn’t skillful
enough to carry it off, so that I found the stories embarrassing to reread
when I was done, and even more embarrassing to reread if they
happened to get pub-lished (as a few did.) Quite early in the game I
therefore stopped and had every character I dealt with speak cultured
English or, at least, correctly spelled English.

There are advantages to dialect, however. If you tell a story in the
first person and in dialect, you make it plain to the reader that you are
dealing with a culture quite distinct from that of the American
establishment. It gives odd events and odd outlooks a greater
verisimilitude, and it also serves as a source of humor. Of two
narratives, all things being otherwise equal, the one in dialect is funnier.

If, that is, it is done right. Henry Kuttner does it right in Cold War as
I’m sure you will very quickly decide for yourself. I couldn’t do it.—I.A.)

****

Chapter I. Last of the Pughs

I’ll never have a cold in the haid again without I think of little Junior Pugh.
Now there was a repulsive brat if ever I saw one. Built like a little gorilla, he
was. Fat, pasty face, mean look, eyes so close together you could poke
‘em both out at once with one finger. His paw thought the world of him
though. Maybe that was natural, seeing as how little Junior was the image of
his pappy.

“The last of the Pughs,” the old man used to say stickin’ his chest out
and beamin’ down at the little gorilla. “Finest little lad that ever stepped.”

It made my blood run cold sometimes to look at the two of ‘em
together. Kinda sad, now, to think back to those happy days when I didn’t
know either of ‘em. You may not believe it but them two Pughs, father and
son, between ‘em came within that much of conquerin’ the world.