A Recipe for Bees ; Gail Anderson-Dragatz
как дочитала - спокойно отдала обратно ребятишкам - в один из уличных шкафчиков с книжками-вещичками поделиться ... а нынче обнаружила что ощущение от того чтения - по прежнему свежи и вибрируют каким то трогательным и честным бзз - как пчелы! не забыть...
A Recipe for Bees by Gail Anderson-Dargatz
рассказ женщины по имени Августа о своей жизни ... плавное плотное повествование, где эпизоды переплетаются, перетекают, без предупреждения, без разрывов...
детали о канадской разновидности разсизма - нанимали работать на ферме коренных жителей местных территорий...
"Augusta was thirteen when Manny came home from town saying he'd hired Harry Jacob, an Indian man living on the reserve. "I told Harry and his women they could set up a tent by the creek for the summer", he said to Helen. It was Harry and his women,never Harry and his wife. The title "wife" was reserved for white women. The couple set up a huge canvas tent, the kind ranch cooks housed their stoves in, a tent with a hole at the top for a stove-pipe. Harry's woman had no stove, but build a campfire under that hole, so the tent was always filled with smoke. Harry, his woman, and their children smelled of smoke; to Augusta their skin appeared stained with it. The couple had a six-year-old boy whose name Augusta no longer remembered, and a girl two years younger than Augusta named Alice. Alice went barefoot and wore the same dress every day, a flowered yellow shift. She spoke little English, Harry' woman spoke none. She had a ragged, indifferent air about her, as if she knew nothing she said or did would make a difference. The boy was sick. To Augusta's delight, Alice came out to play hide-and-sick, kick the can, They chased each other clear around the farm. It was the closest thing she'd had to a sister, to a friend.
This entry was originally posted at https://babusyatanya.dreamwidth.org/469556.html. Please comment there using OpenID.
A Recipe for Bees by Gail Anderson-Dargatz
рассказ женщины по имени Августа о своей жизни ... плавное плотное повествование, где эпизоды переплетаются, перетекают, без предупреждения, без разрывов...
детали о канадской разновидности разсизма - нанимали работать на ферме коренных жителей местных территорий...
"Augusta was thirteen when Manny came home from town saying he'd hired Harry Jacob, an Indian man living on the reserve. "I told Harry and his women they could set up a tent by the creek for the summer", he said to Helen. It was Harry and his women,never Harry and his wife. The title "wife" was reserved for white women. The couple set up a huge canvas tent, the kind ranch cooks housed their stoves in, a tent with a hole at the top for a stove-pipe. Harry's woman had no stove, but build a campfire under that hole, so the tent was always filled with smoke. Harry, his woman, and their children smelled of smoke; to Augusta their skin appeared stained with it. The couple had a six-year-old boy whose name Augusta no longer remembered, and a girl two years younger than Augusta named Alice. Alice went barefoot and wore the same dress every day, a flowered yellow shift. She spoke little English, Harry' woman spoke none. She had a ragged, indifferent air about her, as if she knew nothing she said or did would make a difference. The boy was sick. To Augusta's delight, Alice came out to play hide-and-sick, kick the can, They chased each other clear around the farm. It was the closest thing she'd had to a sister, to a friend.
This entry was originally posted at https://babusyatanya.dreamwidth.org/469556.html. Please comment there using OpenID.