"The following day he died, but before that he had a moment of lucidity, complaining of pains and then saying (it was darkish in the room because of the lowered blinds): 'What nonsense. Of course there is nothing afterwards.' He sighed, listened to the trickling and drumming outside the window and repeated with extreme distinctness: 'There is nothing. It is as clear as the fact that it is raining.'
And meanwhile, outside the spring sun was playing on the roof tiles, the sky was dreamy and cloudless, the tenant upstairs was watering the flowers on the edge of her balcony, and the water trickled down with a drumming sound."

Vladimir Nabokov, The Gift (1938/1963) [London: Penguin 2001, p. 284-85]

"Après Walter Scott, Alexandre Dumas les divertit à la manière d'une laterne magique. Ses personnages, alertes comme des singes, forts comme des boeufs, gais comme des pinsons, entrent et partent brusquement, sautent des toits sur le pavé, reçoivent d'affreuses blessures dont ils guérissent, sont crus morts et reparaissent. Il y a des trappes sous les planchers, des antidotes, des déguisements -- et tout se mêle, court et se débrouille, sans une minute pour la réflexion. L'amour conserve de la décence, le fanatisme est gai, les massacres font sourire."

Flaubert, Bouvard et Pécuchet Kap.V. [Ed. Gothot-Mersch (folio classique 1979), p.202]

"Nach Walter Scott unterhielt sie Alexandre Dumas auf die Art einer Laterna Magica. Seine Figuren, aufmerksam wie die Affen, stark wie die Stiere, fröhlich wie die Finken, treten plötzlich auf und verschwinden plötzlich, springen von den Dächern auf die Straße, erleiden entsetzliche Wunden von denen sie sich erholen, sind totgeglaubt und kommen wieder. Es gibt Fallen unter den Fußböden, Gegengifte, Verkleidungen -- und alles verwirrt sich, läuft dahin und löst sich auf, ohne eine Minute Nachdenkens. Die Liebe bewahrt immer Anstand, der Fanatismus ist fröhlich, die Massaker bringen einen zum Lächeln."

Fine, then.

"The bed he lay on [...] was circular, because of some philosophy of the regular tenant of the apartment, now on sabbatical and working on Thelma Garstang (1798-1842, bad poetess beaten to death by drunken husband, alleged anyway) in British Museum. The traditional quadrangular bed was male tyranny, or something. This regular tenant was, as well as being an academic, a woman novelist who wrote not very popular novels in which the male characters ended up being castrated. Then, it was implied, or so Enderby understood, not having read any of them, only having been told about them, they became considerate lovers eager for cunnilingus with their castratrices, but they were sneered at for being impotent."

Anthony Burgess: The Clockwork Testament, or: Enderby's End. in: The Complete Enderby (Vintage: 2002), p. 384

My second wife was beautiful, but lacked real passion. I recall once, while we were making love, a curious optical illusion occurred and for a split second it almost looked as though she was moving.

Woody Allen, "The Lunatic's Tale"
in Complete Prose (Picador 1991), p. 381

"If Englishmen were white, he thought, then she must be called black; but black she could not in truth be called, rather gold, but then not gold, nor royal purple neither, for when we say colours we see a flatness, as of cloth, but here was flesh that moved and swam on the light's tide, ever changing in hue but always of a richness that could only be termed royal; her colour was royalty."

Anthony Burgess. Nothing Like The Sun. A Story Of Shakespeare's Love-Life(1964). New York: W.W.Norton 1996 p. 57

Aus den Stage-Directions von Eugene O'Neills Desire Under The Elms (1925)

"Two enormous elms are on each side of the house. They bend their trailing branches down over the roof. They appear to protect and at the same time subdue. There is a sinister maternity in their aspect, a crushing, jealous absorption. They have developed from their intimate contact with the life of man in the house an appalling humaneness. They brood oppressively over the house. They are like exhausted women resting their sagging breasts and hands and hair on its roof, and when it rains their tears trickle down monotonously and rot on the shingles."


Während der Symbolismus dieser Zeilen, so hauchzart er auch sein mag, noch die Aufmerksamkeit des Lesers erregen dürfte, ist die erste Szene derart subtil gearbeitet, daß man völlig vergessen könnte, daß es sich hierbei um eine Vermittlung von narrativer Information handelt:

SIMEON--(grudgingly) Purty.
PETER--Ay-eh.
SIMEON--(suddenly) Eighteen years ago.
PETER--What?
SIMEON--Jenn. My woman. She died.

Bin sprachlos.

Toris è una grande cittade ch'è in una provincia ch'e chiamata Irac, nella quale è ancora piú cittadi e piú castella. Ma contarò di Toris, perch'è la migliore città de la provincia.
Gli uomini di Toris vivoro di mercatantia e d'arti, cioè di lavorare drappi a seta e a oro. E è in luogo sí buono, che d'India, di Baudac e di Musol e di Cremo vi vengono li mercatanti, e di molti altri luoghi. Li mercatanti latini vanno quivi per le mercatantie strane che vegnono da lunga parte e molto vi guadagnano; quivi si truova molte priete preziose. Gli uomini sono di piccolo afare, e àvi di molte fatte genti. E quivi àe armini, nestarini, iacopetti, giorgiani, i persiani, e di quelli v'à ch'aorano Malcometto, cioè lo popolo de la terra, che si chiamano taurizins. Atorno a la città è belli giardini e dilettevoli di tutte frutte. Li saracini di Toris sono molti malvagi e disleali.

[Marco Polo, Milione]

Toris [Tabriz] ist eine große Stadt in einer Provinz die Irac heißt, in der es noch mehr Städte und Festungen gibt. Aber ich werde von Toris erzählen, weil sie die schönste Stadt der Provinz ist.
Die Menschen von Toris leben vom Handel und vom Kunsthandwerk, d.h. von der Herstellung von Tuch aus Seide und Gold. Sie [die Stadt] liegt an einem so guten Ort, daß die Händler aus Indien, aus Baudac [Bagdad] aus Musol und aus Cremo dorthin kommen, und aus vielen anderen Gegenden. Die 'italienischen' Händler kommen dorthin wegen der vielen fremden Händler die von weither kommen und dort viel verdienen; dort findet man viele wertvolle Steine. Die Leute sind wenig umständlich und es gibt viele Arten von Menschen. Und es gibt dort Armenier, Nestoriner, Iacobiner, Georgier und Perser, und solche, die dort Mahomet anbeten, also das dort beheimatete Volk, die sich taurizins nennen. Rund um die Stadt gibt es schöne und vergnügliche Gärten mit allerart Früchten. Die Sarazener von Toris sind sehr böswillig und disloyal.

[italienischer Text zitiert nach: Marco Polo. Milione. Introduzione e note di Ettore Mazzali. Garzanti: 2002, p. 17. -- Übersetzung von mir]

'There,' he said again, clasping her, stroking and soothing. It was a very narrow bed. This, he kept reminding himself, was his bride, an intelligent and desirable young woman and it was time, under the thunder and rain, to be thinking of performing, that is to say consummating, that is to say. He stealthily felt his way down to find out what was his body's view of this constatation, but all was quiet there, as though he were calmly reading Jane Austen.

Anthony Burgess, Inside Mr. Enderby

[A. Burgess. The Complete Enderby.Vintage Books: London 2002, p. 144]