66. Abiyot

It all started with the protests of the peasants and the students. No,that came out wrong. It all started when a friend introduced me to www.esnips.com ; and the rest is a folder, which I can rename “history”, full of books (how full is a full folder?). I needed a guide as to what to download; and naturally, I searched for “list of great novels”, “top hundred novels” etc.  True, I have it as unwritten rule to go for the less-hyped of things and people. But these are books that have stood the test of time and established themselves as “the classics”. My Spanish teacher seems to have the same policy of going for the classics –not to imply my taste was influenced by hers; I do not yet  have a taste.

 I am just getting started…

 What I read first was :

A great one to set off a reading revolution with I must say.  And another good thing: I have never heard or read about it in an Ethiopian mass medium thereby satisfying my yearning for novelty, at least in this part of Sub-Saharan Africa.

 Here are two stunning excerpts: 

At that moment, it seemed to him that time stood still, and the Soul of the World surged within him. When he looked into her dark eyes, and saw that her lips were poised between a laugh and silence, he learned the most important part of the language that all the world spoke—the language that everyone on earth was capable of understanding in their heart. It was love. Something older than humanity, more ancient than the desert. Something that exerted the same force whenever two pairs of eyes met, as had theirs.

  I know you may be thinking that I am a sucker for all things amorous and may be you are right. How about this? 

The boy turned to the hand that wrote all. As he did so, he sensed that the universe had fallen silent, and he decided not to speak. A current of love rushed from his heart, and the boy began to pray. It was a prayer that he had never said before, because it was a prayer without words or pleas. His prayer didn’t give thanks for his sheep having found new pastures; it didn’t ask that the boy be able to sell more crystal; and it didn’t beseech that the woman he had met continue to await his return. In the silence, the boy understood that the desert, the wind, and the sun were also trying to understand the signs written by the hand, and were seeking to follow their paths, and to understand what had been written on a single emerald. 

Speaking of emeralds, I have a good mind to name my daughter  Esmeralda . That is if my soldiers are not by now all marching in the wrong direction.

 I have now moved on to the Brothers Karamazov and love the narration.   Looking forward to having a great time in front of the screen and I am not talking about porn. I ditched porn way back because… the connection mekuaters ; and Kama Sutra ain’t porn –it is highly educational man!

 I hope I get to read all these books, cuz, damn, it is a lot of them! At least for me it is. 

And I hope my eyes don’t give out.

 As you might already have noticed in the text, I am practicing how to correctly use colon, semi-colon, hyphen and comma.  



8 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. tibebe
    Jul 08, 2008 @ 12:00:56

    Kerebih 😐 May you find happiness with your officemate’s pamphlet 🙂


  2. getere
    Jul 07, 2008 @ 18:43:14

    well i’m not asking. no time for fiction. i read the alchemist because you insisted. my officemate lent me another book. looks interesting but still waiting till i find the time for it…


  3. tibebe
    Jul 07, 2008 @ 16:29:15

    I used to feel that way too about films : they are able to summarize the things that novels go on and on about.But films take away your abilty to imagine the personalities for yourself and more importantly they deprive you of the description of people,places,events….. as told by the writer.

    Novels are also about expression and story-telling as I think I am beginning to understand-not only about a theme or themes. As long you are kept engaged in the story , the page number does not matter.

    I have put on hold The Brothers Karamazov , ironically because it is too long. But let it be clear, I intend to finish it.

    For now , I am dying for you to ask me to send you A Hundred Years of Solitude ; you will see “expression” for yourself.


  4. getere
    Jul 06, 2008 @ 21:37:46

    nice one tibe. i very much enjoy short stories. large novels are fun but they just take too long. true, in novels you get to know different characters as if you have met them in person. you see their ups and downs but it really doesn’t take a novel to convey a theme. specially i appreciate stories where things like a forest speaks and thinks.


  5. tibebe
    Jul 05, 2008 @ 14:17:05

    The prologue of The Alchemist, which was not on the book we read:

    The Alchemist picked up a book that someone in the caravan had brought. Leafing through the pages,he found a story about Narcissus.The alchemist knew the legend of Narcissus, a youth who daily knelt beside a lake to contemplate his own beauty. He was so fascinated by himself that, one morning, he fell into the lake and drowned. At the spot where he fell, a flower was born, which was called the narcissus.

    But this was not how the author of the book ended the Story.He said that when Narcissus died, the Goddesses of the Forest appeared and found the lake, which had been fresh water, transformed into a lake of salty tears.

    “Why do you weep?” the Goddesses asked.

    “I weep for Narcissus,” the lake replied.

    “Ah, it is no surprise that you weep for Narcissus,” they said, “for though we always pursued him in the forest, you alone could contemplate his beauty close at hand.”

    “But….. was Narcissus beautiful?” the lake asked.

    “Who better than you to know that?” the Goddesses said in wonder, “After all, it was by your banks that he knelt each day to contemplate himself!!”

    The lake was silent for some time.

    Finally it said:

    “I weep for Narcissus, but I never noticed that Narcissus was beautiful. I weep because, each time he knelt beside my banks, I could see, in the depths of his eyes, my own beauty reflected.”

    “What a lovely story,” the alchemist thought.


  6. tibebe
    Jun 29, 2008 @ 09:36:24

    I was thinking how it would be nice to do whatever you do the rest of the week and taking a break on Wednesdays. It would be cool to have a custom week.


  7. tibebe
    Jun 28, 2008 @ 11:59:18

    In case Betty has not yet finished reading it, 😳 We might just have given away some of the stuff in the book.

    And what about the prayer he said right before he died 😳 😳


  8. getere
    Jun 28, 2008 @ 11:44:22

    yes that was the climax of the book, when he talked to God. and just before that, his conversation with the desert, the wind, and the sun were also interesting. there are a number of quotes i like, one of them being this:
    “You can’t be the wind,” the wind said. “We’re two very different things.”
    “That’s not true,” the boy said. “I learned the alchemist’s secrets in my travels. I have inside me the winds, the deserts, the oceans, the stars, and everything created in the universe. We were all made by the same hand, and we have the same soul. I want to be like you, able to reach every corner of the world, cross the seas, blow away the sands that cover my treasure, and carry the voice of the woman I
    This for me is a very important saying. I just don’t know how to explain it. It ensures me that I can be as powerful as I like.


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