"Джек Керуак. Big Sur (engl)" - читать интересную книгу автора

sniffles when he's been playing all day) I start inserting tiny pebbles in
the spaces between the stones so that no water can sneak over to wash away
the shore, even down to the tiniest sand, a perfect sea wall, which I top
with a wood plank for everybody to kneel on when they come there to fetch
their holy water - Looking up from this work of an entire day, from noon
till sundown, amazed to see where I was, who I was, what I'd done - The
absolute innocence like of Indian fashioning a canoe all alone in the woods
- And as I say only weeks earlier I'd fallen flat on my head in the Bowery
and everybody thought I'd hurt myself- So I make supper with a happy song
and go out in the foggy moonlight (the moon sent its white luminescence
through) and marveled to watch the new swift gurgling clear water run with
its pretty flashes of light - 'And when the fog's over and the stars and
the moon come out at night it'll be a beautiful sight. "
And such things - A whole mess of little joys like that amazing me
when I came back in the horror of later to see how they'd all changed and
become sinister, even my poor little wooden platform and mill race when my
eyes and stomach nauseous and my soul screaming a thousand babbling words,
oh - It's hard to explain and best thing to do is not be false.


7


Because on the fourth day I began to get bored and noted it in my diary
with amazement, "Already bored? " - Even tho the handsome words of Emerson
would shake me out of that where he says (in one of those little redleather
books, in the essay on "Self Reliance" a man "is relieved and gay when he
has put his heart into his work and done his best') (applicable both to
building simple silly little millraces and writing big stupid stories like
this) Words from the trumpet of the morning in America, Emerson, he who
announced Whitman and also said "Infancy conforms to nobody" - The infancy
of the simplicity of just being happy in the woods, conforming to nobody's
idea about what to do, what should be done - "Life is not an apology" -
And when a vain and malicious philanthropic abolitionist accused him of
being blind to the issues of slavery he said "Thy love afar is spite at
home" (maybe the philanthropist had Negro help anyway) - So once again I'm
Ti Jean the Child, playing, sewing patches, cooking suppers, washing dishes
(always kept the kettle boiling on the fire and anytime dishes needed to be
washed I just pour hot hot water into pan with Tide soap and soak them good
and then wipe them clean after scouring with little 5- wire scourer) -
Long nights simply thinking about the usefulness of that little wire
scourer, those little yellow copper things you buy in supermarkets for 10
cents, all to me infinitely more interesting than the stupid and senseless
"Steppenwolf novel in the shack which I read with a shrug, this old fart
reflecting the "conformity" of today and all the while he thought he was a
big Nietzsche, old imitator of Dostoevsky fifty years too late (he feels
tormented in a "personal hell" he calls it because he doesnt like what other
people like! )
- Better at noon to watch the orange and black Princeton colors on the
wings of a butterfly - Best to go hear the sound of the sea at night on the