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Bettie's Books
A Stuga On the Cusp of the Orust Riviera, tucked away next to a hobbit hole in the woods.
The Model
bookshelves: summer-2012, norway, art-forms, published-2005, paper-read, one-penny-wonder, play-dramatisation
Read on June 29, 2012
Translated by Don Bartlett
I first found LSC in a menacing short story about a barber in the anthology: Leopard VI: The Norwegian Feeling for Real. Then I was blown away to a 5* with The Half Brother, which was a write-back to Hamsun's Hunger. Now the challenge is on for him to make me squeal with delight with this:
Opening: Six months earlier he had lost his eyesight.
One October afternoon Peter Wihl was working in his studio on paintings for the anniversary exhibitio; twelve large canvasses. He was wearing his uniform, ready to do battle: bare feet in shabby sandals,, a long, stained smock, a scarf around his neck.
Page 45 re Lacunae:
A flake no bigger than the tooth in the perforation of a postage stamp, almost invisible to the eye, falls off Botticelli's Birth Of Venus and turns to dust, blue dust, which is blown along the cold stone floor of the Uffizi Gallery in Florence, to flutter and disappear in the warm winds over the river Arno, thereby changing the character of Botticelli's painting: it is diminished, it is incomplete, it is no longer timeless.
I first found LSC in a menacing short story about a barber in the anthology: Leopard VI: The Norwegian Feeling for Real. Then I was blown away to a 5* with The Half Brother, which was a write-back to Hamsun's Hunger. Now the challenge is on for him to make me squeal with delight with this:
Opening: Six months earlier he had lost his eyesight.
One October afternoon Peter Wihl was working in his studio on paintings for the anniversary exhibitio; twelve large canvasses. He was wearing his uniform, ready to do battle: bare feet in shabby sandals,, a long, stained smock, a scarf around his neck.
Page 45 re Lacunae:
A flake no bigger than the tooth in the perforation of a postage stamp, almost invisible to the eye, falls off Botticelli's Birth Of Venus and turns to dust, blue dust, which is blown along the cold stone floor of the Uffizi Gallery in Florence, to flutter and disappear in the warm winds over the river Arno, thereby changing the character of Botticelli's painting: it is diminished, it is incomplete, it is no longer timeless.
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