slashy moments from literature
Oct. 9th, 2002 10:50 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lobelia321Slashy moments from literature number 2
From The Leopard by Giuseppe Tomasi di Lampedusa (1958):
Don Fabrizio was alarmed by this haste of Father Pirrone; and partly from this and partly from respect for the priestly habit, he hurried to leave the bath expecting to get into his bath-robe before the Jesuit entered; but he did not succeed, and Father Pirrone came in at the very moment when, no longer veiled by soapy water, not yet shrouded by his bath-sheet, he was emerging quite naked, like the Farnese Hercules, and steaming as well, wile water flowed in streams from neck, arms, stomach, and legs like the Rhone, the Rhine, the Danube and the Adige crossing and watering Alpine ranges. The sight of the Prince in a state of nature was quite new to Father Pirrone; the Sacrament of Penance had accustomed him to naked souls, but he was far less used to naked bodies; and he, who would not have blinked an eyelid at hearing the confession, say, of an incestuous intrigue, found himself flustered by this innocent but vast expanse of naked flesh. He stuttered an excuse and made to back out; but Don Fabrizio, annoyed at not having had time to cover himself, naturally turned his irritation against the priest. "Now, Father, don't be silly; hand me that bath-robe, will you, and help me to dry, if you don't mind." Then suddenly he remembered a discussion they had once had and went on: "And take my advice, Father, have a bath yourself." Satisfied at being able to give advice on hygiene to one who so often gave it to him on morals, he felt soothed. With the upper part of the bath-robe in his hands at last he began drying his hair, whiskers and neck, while with the lower end the humiliated Father Pirrone rubbed his feet.
When the peak and slopes of the mountain were dry, the Prince said, "Now take a seat, Father, and tell me why you're in such a hurry to talk to me." And as the Jesuit sat down he began some more intimate moppings of his own.
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*blink*
Date: 2002-10-09 02:51 pm (UTC)*squeal*
(no subject)
Date: 2002-10-09 11:32 pm (UTC)It would be impossible, I think, for me to know anyone as well as I knew Fanshawe then. My mother recalls that we were so attached to each other that once, when we were six, we asked her if it was possible for men to get married. We wanted to live together when we grew up, and who else but married people did that? Fanshawe was going to be an astronomer, and I was going to be a vet. We were thinking of a big house in the country - a place where the sky would be dark enough at night to see all the starts and where there would be no shortage of animals to take care of.
from The New York Trilogy by Paul Auster.
The rest of the novel is mostly unslashy though, unless you read it with a severely biased eye. Which, of course, I did.
trumps
Date: 2002-10-10 03:03 am (UTC)Vikram Seth, A Suitable Boy, 1993, chapter 14.20:
Later in their room, Maan and Firoz lay in bed, yawning and talking.
"I'm exhausted. What a day," said Maan.
"It's good I didn't open my emergency bottle of Scotch before dinner, od we'd have been snoring through the Bhatiyar."
There was a pause.
"What exactly was wrong about my mentioning Saeeda Bai?" asked Maan. "Everyone froze. So did you."
"Did I?" said Firoz, leaning on his arm and looking at his friend rather intently.
"Yes." Firoz was wondering what, if anything, to say in reply, when Maan went on: "I like that photograph, the one by the window of you and the family -- you look just the same now as then."
"Nonsense," laughed Firoz. "I'm five years old in that photograph. And I'm much bettr-looking now," he added in a factual sort of way. "Better-looking than you, in fact."
Maan explained himself. "What I meant was that you have the same kind of look, with your head tilted at an angle and that frown."
"All that that tilt reminds me of is the Chief Justice[his father]," said Firoz. After a while he said: "Why are you leaving tomorrow? Stay for a few days more."
[...]
Firoz yawned again. "Yes, yes, that's right. Well, but this year I won't be here. I'll be in Brahmpur."
"Why?"
"Oh, Imtiaz[his brother] and I take it by turns [...] The fact is whe haven't shared a Moharram since we've been eighteen. One of us has to be here, and the other in Brahmpur to take part in the processions there."
"Don't tell me you beat your breast and flagellate yourself," said Maan. [Note: Maan is Hindu, Firoz is Muslim.]
"No. But some people do. Some even walk on fire. Come and see it for yourself this year."
"Perhaps I will," said Maan. "Goodnight. Isn't the light switch by your side of the bed?"
"Do you know that even Saeeda Bai closes shop during Moharram?" asked Firoz.
"What?" said Maan in a more wakeful voice. [...]
"She won't even sing for you," said Firoz.
"I suppose not," said Maan, slightly crestfallen and wondering why Firoz was being so unkind.
"Nor for your friend."
"My friend?" asked Maan.
"The Rajkumar of Marh."[an aristocratic fop and dandy]
Maan laughed. "Oh, him!" he said.
"Yes, him," said Firoz.
There was something in Firoz's voice that reminded Maan of their younger days.
"Firoz!" laughed Maan, turning towards him. "All that is over. We were just kids. Don't tell me you're jealous."
"Well, as you once said, I never tell you anything."
"Oh?" said Maan, rolling over on his side towards his friend, and taking him in his arms.
"I thought you were sleepy," said Firoz, smiling to himself in the dark.
"So I am," said Maan. "But so what?"
Firoz began to laugh quietly. "You'll think I've planned all this."
"Well, perhaps you have," said Maan. "But I don't mind," he added with a small sigh as he passed a hand through Firoz's hair.
Re: *blink*
Date: 2002-10-10 03:16 am (UTC)Ah, Lazulus: the choice between Lampedusa and Richard was yours, and who am I to say whether it was wisely made or not??
Re: *blink*
Date: 2002-10-10 03:41 am (UTC)I just knew you'd comment on it. *smirk*