(no subject)
This morning I finished reading Watership Down. Again. For the millionth time. Every time I read it I fall more in love with the story and the stories within the story and humanity that comes unexpectedly and powerfully shining through.
The following is one of my favorite moments in the book.
Vervain advanced slowly across the floor. Even he could derive little satisfaction from the prospect of killing a tharn rabbit half his own size, in obedience to a contemptuous taunt. The small rabbit made no move whatever, either to retreat or to defend himself, but only stared at him from great eyes which, though troubled, were certainly not those of a beaten enemy or a victim. Before his gaze, Vervain stopped in uncertainy and for long moments the two faced each other in the dim light. Then, very quietly and with no trace of fear, the strange rabbit said,
"I'm sorry for you with all my heart. But you cannot blame us, for you came to kill us if you could."
"Blame you?" answered Vervain. "Blame you for what?"
"For your death. Believe me, I am sorry for your death."
Vervain in his time had encountered any number of prisoners who, before they died, had cursed or threatened him, not uncommonly with supernatural vengeance, much as Bigwig had cursed Woundwort in the storm. If such things had been liable to have any effect on him, he would not have been head of the Owslafa. Indeed, for almost any utterance that a rabbit in the dreadful situation could find to make, Vervain was unthinkingly ready with one or other of a stock of jeering rejoinders. Now, as he continued to meet the eyes of this unaccountable enemy- the only one he had faced in all the long night's search for bloodshed- horror came upon him and he was filled with a sudden fear of his words, gentle and inexorable as the falling of bitter snow in a land without refuge. The shadowy recesses of the strange burrow seemed full of whispering, malignant ghosts and he recognized the forgotten voices of rabbits done to death months since in the ditches of Efrafa.
The following is one of my favorite moments in the book.
Vervain advanced slowly across the floor. Even he could derive little satisfaction from the prospect of killing a tharn rabbit half his own size, in obedience to a contemptuous taunt. The small rabbit made no move whatever, either to retreat or to defend himself, but only stared at him from great eyes which, though troubled, were certainly not those of a beaten enemy or a victim. Before his gaze, Vervain stopped in uncertainy and for long moments the two faced each other in the dim light. Then, very quietly and with no trace of fear, the strange rabbit said,
"I'm sorry for you with all my heart. But you cannot blame us, for you came to kill us if you could."
"Blame you?" answered Vervain. "Blame you for what?"
"For your death. Believe me, I am sorry for your death."
Vervain in his time had encountered any number of prisoners who, before they died, had cursed or threatened him, not uncommonly with supernatural vengeance, much as Bigwig had cursed Woundwort in the storm. If such things had been liable to have any effect on him, he would not have been head of the Owslafa. Indeed, for almost any utterance that a rabbit in the dreadful situation could find to make, Vervain was unthinkingly ready with one or other of a stock of jeering rejoinders. Now, as he continued to meet the eyes of this unaccountable enemy- the only one he had faced in all the long night's search for bloodshed- horror came upon him and he was filled with a sudden fear of his words, gentle and inexorable as the falling of bitter snow in a land without refuge. The shadowy recesses of the strange burrow seemed full of whispering, malignant ghosts and he recognized the forgotten voices of rabbits done to death months since in the ditches of Efrafa.