Реклама. ООО «ЛитРес», ИНН: 7719571260.
The Plumed Serpent
Table of Contents
Chapter 1. Beginnings of a Bull-fight
Chapter 2. Tea-party in Tlacolula
Chapter 3. Fortieth Birthday
Chapter 4. To Stay or Not to Stay
Chapter 5. The Lake
Chapter 6. The Move Down the Lake
Chapter 7. The Plaza
Chapter 8. Night in the House
Chapter 9. Casa de las Cuentas
Chapter 10. Don Ramón and Doña Carlota
Chapter 11. Lords of the Day and Night
Chapter 12. The First Waters
Chapter 13. The First Rain
Chapter 14. Home to Sayula
Chapter 15. The Written Hymns of Quetzalcoatl
Chapter 16. Cipriano and Kate
Chapter 17. Fourth Hymn and the Bishop
Chapter 18. Auto da Fe
Chapter 19. The Attack on Jamiltepec
Chapter 20. Marriage by Quetzalcoatl
Chapter 21. The Opening of the Church
Chapter 22. The Living Huitzilopochtli
Chapter 23. Huitzilopochtli’s Night
Chapter 24. Malintzi
Chapter 25. Teresa
Chapter 26. Kate is a Wife
Chapter 27. Here!
D. H. Lawrence
.....
They were mostly loutish men in city clothes, the mongrel men of a mongrel city. Two men stood making water against the wall, in the interval of their excitement. One father had kindly brought his little boys to the show, and stood in fat, sloppy, paternal benevolence above them. They were pale mites, the elder about ten years old, highly dressed up in Sunday clothes. And badly they needed protecting from that paternal benevolence, for they were oppressed, peaked, and a bit wan from the horrors. To those children at least bull-fights did not come natural, but would be an acquired taste. There were other children, however, and fat mammas in black satin that was greasy and grey at the edges with an overflow of face-powder. These fat mammas had a pleased, excited look in their eyes, almost sexual, and very distasteful in contrast to their soft passive bodies.
Kate shivered a little in her thin frock, for the ponderous rain had a touch of ice. She stared through the curtain of water at the big rickety gates of the enclosure surrounding the amphitheatre, at the midget soldiers cowering in their shoddy, pink-white cotton uniforms, and at the glimpse of the squalid street outside, now running with dirty brown streams. The vendors had all taken refuge, in dirty-white clusters, in the pulque shops, one of which was sinisterly named: A Ver que Sale.
.....