Steppenwolf
“I suppose this represents Man’s innate urge to destroy,” she said, kicking a ball of crumpled paper across the floor. “And next time he tries to bite you, it’ll be Man’s basic insecurity.”
“You don’t know what a bore you are when you try to be caustic. If you want me to get rid of him, I will. It’s easy enough.”
She bent to touch the animal, but it backed uneasily under the bunk. She stood up. “I don’t mind him. What I mind is you. He can’t help being a little horror, but he keeps reminding me that you could if you wanted.”
Her husband’s face assumed the impassivity that was characteristic of him when he was determined not to lose his temper. She knew he would wait to be angry until she was unprepared for his attack . He said nothing, tapping an insisting rhythm on the lid of a suitcase with his fingernails.
“Naturally I don’t mean you’re a horror,” she continued.
“Why not mean it?” he said, smiling pleasantly. “What’s wrong with criticism? Probably I am, to you. I like monkeys because I see them as little model men. You think men are something else, something spiritual or God knows what. Whatever it is, I notice you’re the one who’s being disillusioned and going around wondering how mankind can be so bestial. I think mankind’s fine.”
“Please don’t go on,” she said. “I know your theories. You’ll never convince yourself of them.”
Paul Bowles, Call at Corazón
سورة التكوير
‘Coursers’ is given for jawar, the plural of jariya, meaning something that is in motion. The planets appear to move through the sky. ‘Disappearers’ is given for kunnas, the plural of kanis, meaning something that conceals itself in its place, like a gazelle conceals itself in its home. So it reads: ‘I swear not by the planets in motion that return to their heavenly station and run their orbit and then conceal themselves in their places.’ For in the beginning of the night one sees the planets have returned from their concealment, then he sees their movement and thereafter their disappearance.
Muhammad Shirazi, Translating Surah At Takwir
Million Wishes
‘Heaven is democratic these days’, she said. Then added, ‘Or at least if you want it to be.’
‘What do you mean, democratic?’
‘We don’t impose Heaven on people any more,’ she said. ‘We listen to their needs. If they want it, they can have it; if not, not. And then of course they get the sort of Heaven they want.’
‘And what do they want on the whole?’ (…)
‘It varies. But if I were being honest, I’d say that it doesn’t vary all that much. (…) Everyone has the option to die off if they want to.’
‘And who asks for death the soonest?’ (…)
‘Well, I’m afraid – to answer your question – that the people who ask for death the earliest are a bit like you. People who want an eternity of sex, beer, drugs, fast cars – that sort of thing. They can’t believe their luck at first, and then, a few hundred years later, they can’t believe their bad luck. That’s the sort of people they are, they realize. They’re stuck with being themselves. Millennia after millennia of being themselves. They tend to die off soonest.’
Julian Barnes, A History Of The World in 10½ Chapters
Not too Cool
“At times like this curiously, you begin to think of the things you regret… Or the things you might miss… I would like in general to treat people with much more care, and respect. I would like to climb a tall hill – not too tall – sit in the cool grass – but not too cool – and feel the sun on my face… I wish I could have cracked the Lindbergh kidnapping case. I would very much like to make love to a beautiful woman who I had genuine affection for… And of course it goes without saying that I would like to visit Tibet… I wish they could get their country back and the Dalai Lama could return… Oh I would like that very much.”
Octavia
Now I will tell how Octavia, the spider web city, is made. There is a precipice between two steep mountains: the city is over the void, bound to the two crests with ropes and chains and catwalks. You walk on the little wooden ties, careful not to set your foot in the open spaces, or you cling to the hempen strands. Below there is nothing for hundreds and hundreds of feet: a few clouds glide past; farther down you can glimpse the chasm’s bed.
This is the foundation of the city: a net which serves as a passage and as a support. All the rest, instead of rising up, is hung below: rope ladders, hammocks, houses made like sacks, clothes hangers, terraces like gondolas, skins of water, gas jets, spits, baskets on strings, dumbwaiters, showers, trapezes and rings for children’s games, cable cars, chandeliers, pots with trailing plants.
Suspended over the abyss, the life of Octavia’s inhabitants is less uncertain than in other cities. They know the net will last only so long…
Italo Calvino, Invisible Cities
