The King of Alsander
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Оглавление
James Elroy Flecker. The King of Alsander
The King of Alsander
Table of Contents
PREFACE
THE KING OF ALSANDER
CHAPTER I
BLAINDON
CHAPTER II
ALSANDER
CHAPTER III
EN PENSION IN ALSANDER
CHAPTER IV
INTRODUCING A GOOD BEGGAR AND A BAD KING
CHAPTER V
OF THE KNIGHTING OF NORMAN PRICE
CHAPTER VI
CONCERNING ISIS AND APHRODITE: WITH A DIGRESSION ON THE SHOCKING TREATMENT. THE LATTER'S FOLLOWERS RECEIVE FROM THE HANDS OF ENGLISH NOVELISTS
CHAPTER VII
THE SOCIETY FOR THE ADVANCEMENT OF ALSANDER
CHAPTER VIII
HOW NORMAN FAILED TO PASS A QUALIFYING EXAMINATION. FOR THE POST OF KING OF ALSANDER, AND WAS WHIPPED: TOGETHER WITH A DIGRESSION ON THE EXCELLENCE OF WHIPPING
CHAPTER IX
THE CONSUL
CHAPTER X
CONTAINS THE PRESIDENT'S TALE AND A DEBATE ON THE ADVANTAGES OF MURDER
CHAPTER XI
A VISIT TO VORZA
CHAPTER XII
IN WHICH THE BEETLES CRAWL
CHAPTER XIII
RE-CORONATION
CHAPTER XIV
PRINCESS IANTHE
CHAPTER XV
PERONELLA AND THE PRIEST
CHAPTER XVI
THE COUNTER CONSPIRACY: AN EPISODE IN THE STYLE OF THE WORST WRITERS
CHAPTER XVII
BATTLE
CHAPTER XVIII
THE POET VISITS BLAINDON ONCE MORE, AND TAKES JOHN GAFFEKIN TO THE SEASHORE WHERE A MIRACLE OCCURS
Отрывок из книги
James Elroy Flecker
Published by Good Press, 2019
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For she stood there in front of him in the radiant, dancing, dewy morning, happy and unperturbed, in her gracious half-human beauty, not majestic, not passionate, not mysterious, but unreal from her very loveliness, a nymph, not of the woods or rivers, but of the sea—yet not of the tempestuous main—no tall sad siren of a treacherous rock, but a sweet, young pleasant nymph from a bay where the sun is always shining, a sea-sand nymph not unacquainted with flowers.
For when I would deal with her face and body, all those feeble, pretty comparisons whereby the pen of the writer strives to emulate the brush of the painter, must be of the sea or of flowers. Her dark hair, fringed against the gold lace of her scarf—but those same painters (whom all we word-workers envy bitterly but dare not say so) have shown how many confluent colours—hyacinth and blue and red and deep red gold, gleam in the shadowy hollows of the hair we fools call dark. … Dark! As the sea-water in a sunlit bay lies dark between two little island rocks yet ripples in the wind, and the sea flowers turn it red along the marge and the depths glow violet in the midst, and the sunshine is all near but hidden—am I not now describing the dark hair of a lovely woman?
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