Name: Across the River and Into the Trees
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Across the River and Into the Trees

Ernest Hemingway

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Elektronická kniha: Ernest Hemingway – Across the River and Into the Trees (jazyk: Angličtina)

Katalogové číslo: hemingway07 Kategorie: beletrie

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E-kniha Ernest Hemingway: Across the River and Into the Trees

Anotace

A poignant tale of a revitalizing love that is found too late—the fleeting connection between an Italian countess and an injured American colonel inspires light and hope, while only darkness lies ahead.
In the fall of 1948, Ernest Hemingway made his first extended visit to Italy in thirty years. His reacquaintance with Venice, a city he loved, provided the inspiration for Across the River and into the Trees, the story of Richard Cantwell, a war-ravaged American colonel stationed in Italy at the close of the Second World War, and his love for a young Italian countess.
A bittersweet homage to love that overpowers reason, to the resilience of the human spirit, and to the world-weary beauty and majesty of Venice, Across the River and into the Trees stands as Hemingway’s statement of defiance in response to the great dehumanizing atrocities of the Second World War.

O autorovi

Ernest Hemingway

[21.7.1899-2.7.1961] Americký prozaik, žurnalista a esejista, autor moderního románu a povídky. Ernest Miller Hemingway se narodil v Oak Parku (Illinois). Psal převážně o mužích vedoucích nebezpečný způsob života (např. o vojácích, rybářích a lovcích), respektive o toreadorech provozujících býčí zápasy. Jeho díla jsou oslavou jejich odvahy, ale také sondou do jejich psychologie a do pozadí jejich skutků. Pod vlivem modernistických...

Ernest Hemingway: životopis, dílo, citáty

Další informace

Autor	Ernest Hemingway
Jazyk	Angličtina
Vydáno	1950
Žánr	román, válečné
Formát	ePub, MOBI, PDF

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CHAPTER XXVI

THEY sat there at the table and watched the early stormy light over the Canal. The grey had turned to a yellow grey, now, with the sun, and the waves were working against the outgoing tide.

“Mummy says she can’t live here too long at any time because there are no trees,” the girl said. “That’s why she goes to the country.”

“That’s why everyone goes to the country,” the Colonel said. “We could plant a few trees if we found a place with a big enough garden.”

“I like Lombardy poplars and plane trees the best, but I am still quite uneducated.”

“I like them, and cypresses and chestnut trees. The real chestnut and the horse-chestnut. But you will never see trees, Daughter, until we go to America. Wait till you see a white pine or a ponderosa pine.”

“Will we see them when we make the long trip and stop at all the filling stations or comfort stations or whatever they are called?”

“Lodges and Tourist Camps,” the Colonel said. “Those others we stop at; but not for the night.”

“I want so much for us to roll up to a comfort station and plank down my money and tell them to fill her up and check the oil, Mac, the way it is in American books or in the films.”

“That’s a filling station.”

“Then what is a comfort station?”

“Where you go, you know—”

“Oh,” the girl said and blushed. “I’m sorry. I want to learn American so much. But I suppose I shall say barbarous things the way you do sometimes in Italian.”

“It is an easy language. The further West you go the straighter and the easier it becomes.”

The Gran Maestro brought the breakfast and the odor of it, although it did not spread through the room, due to the silver covers on the dishes, came to them steady and as broiled bacon and kidneys, with the dark lusterless smell of grilled mushrooms added.

“It looks lovely,” the girl said. “Thank you very much, Gran Maestro. Should I talk American?” she asked the Colonel. She extended her hand to the Gran Maestro lightly, and fastly, so that it darted as a rapier does, and said, “Put it there, Pal. This grub is tops.”

The Gran Maestro s…