What to read: a novel "Winter" of modern Britain, and family difficulties
Books / / December 19, 2019
Winter solstice. Art in London, for shabby "pi-shi" public use, in the former reference library card, which is now above the door hangs a sign: "Welcome to the store of ideas." He dials a random word in Google, checking whether the pops in the frequent requests that they died. Most of the jumps, and even if not immediately, it is almost always they are dead, it is necessary to collect [the word] plus the letter "y".
It covers the willies (it is not clear what caused - perhaps masochism), when he dials the word "art" and pops the top request in the list:
art died.
Then he tries the word "masochism".
"Masochism is dead" does not pop up.
But love is clearly dead.
The place where it is located, - the exact opposite of death. It is teeming with people who are busy with something. It was quite difficult to find a place for one of these old "pi-si", and a lot of people are now standing and waiting until one is free from all five runs. Several people in the queue behave restlessly, as if they really need to do something urgently. A couple of people bustling. They go back and forth behind the backs of people in computer booths. Artoo anyway. Today all his care.
Known for its politeness Art, kind, generous, sentimental, sensitive art is not considered to the needs of others and will sit in the fucking booth improvised, as he wants and need.
(Of courtesy, kindness, generosity, sentimentality and sensitivity dead only sentimentality.)
He has a lot of work.
Yet he had to write a blog about the solstice and lay out the text until the solstice has not ended.
he gains blogs.
Pops up: died.
he gains nature.
This is one of the words that need additional letter "y". When he adds it pop up tips:
the nature of mind
nature dies
the nature of the temperate zone
nature died
but writers about nature, It turns out, it is not dead. When you type a word pops up a lot of small images - portretiki wholesome greats past and present. He looks at the faces of these thoughtful inquiring minds in tiny squares Interactive, and a terrible longing squeezes his heart.
Is nature able to change?
After all, he did good for nothing.
Narcissistic con.
After all, in the life of these writers about the nature there are no such problems they can not solve, or to smooth out his work on the nature. Look at him.
Charlotte rights. He is not real.
Charlotte.
Three days later, his mother waiting for him with Charlotte in Cornwall.
He took from his pocket phone. He looks at the screen. Charlotte began sending tweets with @rtinnature feykovye. Yesterday she said on behalf of 3451, its subscriber that he saw the first GONEPTERYX RHAMNI new annual cycle. "3 months ago, the first zig-zag GONEPTERYX RHAMNI!" It specifically makes spelling mistakes, to put it stupid and sloppy, and with this in mind the word "Sieg" may also trying to lure in a couple of other tape Nazis. She zapostila picture with a female GONEPTERYX RHAMNI on the sheet, downloaded from the Internet. Twitter exploded, burst into a mini Twitter storm
@rtinnature briefly raised himself to the top, where more than a thousand excited, angry and slightly aggressive nature lovers heaped upon him because of what he does not understand the difference between a butterfly and a new one that has woken up from winter hibernation.
Today's tweets, which began half an hour earlier, too, on his behalf, shall notify all other blatant lie. Today Charlotte tweet pictures Euston Road during snowfall, which had found somewhere on the network.
No there is no snow. 11 degrees and sunny.
Answers have foam as badly poured lager. Anger and sarcasm, anger, hatred and ridicule, even in one tweet said: "If you were Baba, I have now sent you a death ray."
Art does not know what it is - a postmodern joke or a serious threat. Moreover, the media pair, Australian and US census these pictures co reference to his twitter. First photo: Snow in the heart of London.
Phone in a hand lights. "My dear nephew."
It's Iris.
Yesterday Iris sent him text messages to tell you about another sense of the word "GONEPTERYX RHAMNI".
"My dear nephew, you are never tested or ran across the homing function of the type GONEPTERYX RHAMNI, I'm talking about a missile air-to-ground. Che is a butterfly is not much pull! If wag his wings in the course will be quite different butterfly effect x Eyre. "
Today, she suddenly encourages. "My dear nephew, - she writes, - are you not himself tweeted: - $. So say for themselves: we are at the mercy of technology, or technology in our power? x Eyre. "
Well, shine. After all, even if his old aunt, who is probably already under eighty and that anyone in almost do not know him, is able to determine that it was hacked, then there is no need to worry: it is definitely real subscribers detected.
In London, the snow on the knee, tvitterchane!
He will not lead.
He is above that.
He did not please her, stepping aside.
He will not allow himself to bend.
He allowed her to reveal his own baseness through the same things.
(Curiously, Charlotte trying by all means to keep in touch with him.)
He looks around at all the people in the library. Well, in actual fact, look. You see? No one in this room is not aware of what is happening on the Internet on his behalf and under his photo, or all of the still. If you look at things from this angle, it is possible to say that in fact it does not.
Nevertheless, it happens.
Then what is real? Is this library - not a reality? Is the reality - on the screen, but it is a natural sitting here with all these people - not the reality? He looks out the window over the old angular screen "pi-si." By passing cars, scurrying to and fro the people at the bus stop in front of a girl sitting that reading something, and it does not care. Or cares?
Not.
So, she did not worry about anything.
But
tvitterchane
Charlotte will bring him low, and at the same time furnishes everything as if he humiliates its subscribers. It's a shame in many ways. She knows about it. She tweets about snow specifically to offend him. She knows that he's long been planned and prepared for present snow, if it ever goes to write about it for the "Art in nature". He's going to - or rather, was going to - to make a digression on the subject traces and prints alphanumeric.
"Each letter is left in electronic or printed form, - a kind of print, animal footprints" - line, written in his notebook more than six months ago. Charlotte knows perfectly well that he put this topic because of the warm winter last year.
Now he has such a good, wonderful words to spell: plume stamp imprint. He is also a collector of unusual words for different snow conditions. Mokryad. Shuga. "Penitent" snow. He's going to - or rather, was going - even slightly politicized and talk about the unity of nature, despite the apparent disconnect, how unity can manifest, against all odds, in a random relationship between the snow and the wind direction, how the snow falls mostly on one side, while a tree branch stick out in different.
(Charlotte found it quite banal thoughts and read him a lecture that he does not catch the essence and that the best and most politically conscious writers about nature are never complacent, and complacency samoosleplonnymi on own account in troubled times, and the word "snowflake" now has a completely different meaning and this is something he and the need to write.)
He wrote notes on the interchange of water molecules and going to headline their "generous water." He pointed out, why a cold day when there is little wind, something that turns into ice, produces something like smoke, fire, notes written on the ice under the snow connection called "snod" so strong that it can be to build a building of pinnately mosaic forms, purchased ice formed on the strictly defined surfaces on that really no two snow crystals, the difference between the flakes and crystals and the social nature of snowflakes - also quite politicized topic for an article - and that the flakes falling from the sky, forming its own natural alphabet, each time creating your own unique grammar.
Charlotte pulled a page from the "snow" notebook and threw them out the window.
He looked and looked at what was left of them on the tops of trees and bushes in the wind glasses and roofs of cars parked at the bottom and on the pieces scattered on the sidewalk.
- You write about nature? - she said. - Do not make me laugh. You can not just suck the finger story of wandering in the field or along the channel, posting them on the internet and claim that writing about nature. You're only a parasitic plant. This is your only link with nature: parazitiruesh on people and get paid for it. Do not even try to impersonate people, or rather to himself for someone else, you're just affectionate shameful plant-parasite!
They nibbled when she caught him cleaning his fingernails on the edge of the pages of her book, and asked not to do, then, stung by criticism of her, he began to criticize her for her endless whining about international position.
- They made your choice - he said, when she complained again that the people of the EU have to wait if they are allowed to remain in the country or not, as well as people who are married to people from the EU, or people whose children were born here and who may not be possible to stay, and so on. d. - they wanted to come and live here. They took this risk. We are not to blame.
- Select - she said.
- Yes, - he said.
- Remember when we talked about the people who drowned escaping from war and trying to swim across the sea, and you said that we should not feel guilty, because it was their choice - to flee their homes burned and bombed and again their choice - take a boat, which is then turned over? - she said.
Here is she always says.
- We have everything is normal, - he said. - Do not worry. Enough money, in both good guaranteed job. We are fine.
- In your automatic return to selfishness is not good, - she said.
Ali Smith - one of the most talented contemporary British writers. Her previous book "Autumn" was named the first great novel of post-Breksa era. "Winter" - the second part of the "seasonal" quartet associated with the previous book are not heroes, but common themes and atmosphere. In it Smith writes about society era postpravdy problems, maintaining a constant sense of humor and optimism.
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