Донна Тартт/ Donna Tartt, Little Friend
Удивительно, сколько тяжеловесной серьезности можно впихнуть в 1 квадратный см текста. Весь роман - о том, как хорошо пишет Донна Тартт. Очень хочется подергать ее за косички.
Из положительного - я пополнила словарь огромным количеством прилагательных и наречий. Совершенно бесполезных.
Из положительного - я пополнила словарь огромным количеством прилагательных и наречий. Совершенно бесполезных.
The rose-pink stripes in the draperies had darkened to a bloody color and the light from the lamp unravelled in long, iridescent tentacles which ebbed and flowed with the wash of some invisible tide, before they, too, began to darken, blackening around the pulsating edges though the centers still burned white and somewhere she heard a wasp buzzing, somewhere near her ear though maybe it wasn’t, maybe it was coming from somewhere inside her; the room was whirling and suddenly she couldn’t pinch her nose shut any longer, her hand was trembling and wouldn’t do what she told it to and with a long, agonized rasp, she fell backward on the sofa in a shower of sparks, clicking the stopwatch with her thumb.
A hush fell over the audience as-twisting, thrashing, red in the face-he wriggled free of the strait-jacket and shouldered it over his head. With his teeth, he set to work on the manacles; in a moment or two they clattered to the planks and then-nimbly doubling up and freeing his feet-he swung from the chain suspended ten feet above the ground and landed, arm high, with a gymnast’s flourish, doffing a top hat which appeared from nowhere.
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To each her own, в общем.
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