"Ocean Sea", citations - 2 In fact, I just copied from previous post. I just realized that was too long (which might as well copiassi the entire book, as I rightly pointed out Raven;)), so I broke in two.
hope that you find time for the third party.
CHAPTER III
Sera. Locanda Almayer. Room on the first floor, down the hall. Desk, lamp oil, silence. A gray robe with Bartleboom inside. Two gray slippers with his feet inside. White paper on his desk, pen and ink. He writes, Bartleboom. Writes.
My darling,
I arrived at the sea. I will spare you the toil and misery of the journey: what matters is that now I'm here. The inn is hospitable: simple, but welcoming. E 'on the top of a small hill, directly opposite the beach. In the evening the tide rises and the water comes almost under my window. It 's like being on a ship. Would you like to.
I've never been on a ship.
Tomorrow I will start my studies. The place seems ideal. I do not hide the difficulties, but you know - you alone in the world - as I am determined to complete the work that has been my ambition convepire and take in a auspicious day twelve years ago. I will be comforting to imagine them in health and happiness of mind.
Actually I had never thought of before, but really I've never been on a ship.
In the solitude of this secluded from the world, accompanied by the certainty that I do not want, in the distance, losing the memory of one who loves you and will always remain the Your
Ismael A. Ismael Bartleboom
Put down the pen, fold the paper, puts it in an envelope. He gets up, takes it from his trunk a mahogany box, lift the lid, allow us to fall within the letter, open or unaddressed. In the box there are hundreds of matching envelopes. Open or unaddressed.
38, Bartleboom. He thinks that somewhere in the world, will meet one day a woman who has always been the his woman. Sometimes he regrets that the destiny is so determined to do it wait so indelicate tenacity, but over time has learned to look at it with great serenity. Almost every day, for years, takes up the pen and writes. It has no names and did not put addresses on envelopes, but has a life to tell. And who, if not to her? He thinks that when they meet will be nice to put them down on her lap a mahogany box full of letters and say
- I was waiting.
you open the box and slowly when you wish, read the letters one by one and going a mile thread of blue ink will take years - the days, the times - that this man, even before you know it, already had given her. Or perhaps, more simply, would reverse the box and dazed in front of that snowfall of funny letters smile to the man telling
- You're crazy.
And forever will love him.
CHAPTER V
The circle is infinite universe of its optical perfection of this oscillatory motion formulated promises that the absolute uniqueness of each wave is not condemned to be maintained. There was no way to stop the continual succession of creation and destruction. His eyes sought the truth be described and regulated are some picture and complete and ended, instead, ran behind the mobile Uncertainty quell'andirivieni that any scientific look rocked and mocked.
was annoying. Need to do something. Bartleboom stopped his eyes. Li pointed at his feet, framing a piece of beach silent and motionless. And he decided to wait. He had to finish the run after quell'altalena exhausting. If Mohammed will not go to the mountain, and so on, he thought. Sooner or later they would come - in the frame of that look he imagined in his memorable scientific coldness - the exact profile, fringed with foam, wave waiting. And there, it would be set as an imprint in his mind. And he would happen. This was the plan. With total dedication Bartleboom fell into a stillness without feelings, transforming, so to speak, in neutral and infallible optical instrument. Almost could not breathe. The circle is cut from fixed his gaze fell an eerie silence from the laboratory. It was like a trap, unflappable and patient. He waited for his prey. And the prey, slowly came. Two women's shoes. High, but as a woman.
- You should be Bartleboom.
Bartleboom, really, waiting for a wave. Or something like that. He looked up and saw a woman, wrapped in an elegant purple coat.
- Bartleboom, yes ... Professor Ismael Bartleboom.
- Have you lost something?
Bartleboom realized that he had been leaning forward, still stiff in the scientific profile of the optical instrument in which it was transformed. He straightened up with all the naturalness of which he was capable. Very little.
- No. I'm working.
- Working?
- Yes, I do ... I do research, you know, research ...
- Ah.
- scientific research, I mean ...
- Scientific.
- Yes
Silence. The woman clutched in his purple cloak.
- shells, lichens, things like that?
- No, the waves. So
: waves .
- That ... you see there, right where the water comes ... rooms on the beach then it stops ... here, precisely that point where it stops ... only lasts just a moment, look, here, for example, there ... see that only lasts a moment, then disappears, but if he could stop a moment ... when the water stops, that very point, that curve ... what I study. Where the water stops.
- and what to study?
- Be ', is an important point ... sometimes we do not do the event, but if you think about it there happens something extraordinary, ... extraordinary.
- Really?
Bartleboom leaned slightly towards the woman. It was as if he had a secret to tell when he said
- Here the sea ends.
