Readings

Syringa's bookshelf: read

Le livre du voyage
Prom Nights from Hell
The Collapse of Western Civilization: A View from the Future
Le Jeûne
Le petit guide de la cure de raisin
Le Libraire De Selinonte
Benedict Cumberbatch: The Biography
Exploration Fawcett: Journey to the Lost City of Z
Le vieux qui ne voulait pas fêter son anniversaire
Le tour du monde en 80 jours
Professeur Cherche élève Ayant Désir De Sauver Le Monde
Elif Gibi Sevmek
Hikâyem Paramparça
The Enchantress of Florence
Anglais BTS 1re & 2e années Active Business Culture
Réussir le commentaire grammatical de textes
Epreuve de traduction en anglais
Le commentaire littéraire anglais - Close Reading
Réussir l'épreuve de leçon au CAPES d'anglais - Sujets corrigés et commentés
Le pouvoir politique et sa représentation - Royaume-Uni, Etats-Unis


Syringa Smyrna's favorite books »

vendredi 7 février 2014

The Handmaid's Tale - Margaret Atwood


« This is the kind of touch they like : folk art, archaic, made by women, in their spare time, from things that have no further use. A return to traditional values. »

« Thinking can hurt your chances, and I intend to last. »

« Fraternize means to beahve like a brother. Luke told me that. He said there was no corresponding word that meant to behave like a sister. Sororize, it would have to be, he said. From the Latin. He liked knowing about such details. The derivations of words, curious usages. I used to tease him about being pedantic. »

« The tulips are red, a darker crimson towards the stem, as if they had been cut and are beginning to heal there. »

« He looks at me, and sees me looking. He has a French face, lean, whimsical, all planes and angles, with creases around the mouth where he smiles. »

« Now that she’s the carrier of life, she is closer to death, and needs special security. »

« I remember the smell of nail polish, the way t wrinkled if you put the second coat on too soon, the satiny brushing of sheer pantyhose against the skin, the way the toes felt, pushed towards the opening in the shoe by the whole weight of the body. »

« we are secret, forbidden, we excite them »

« These bodies hanging on the Wall are time travellers, anachronisms. They’ve come here from the past. »

« If it’s a story I’m telling, then I have control over the ending. Then there will be an ending, to the story, and real life will come after it. I can pick up where I left off. It isn’t a story I’m telling. It’s also a story I’m telling, in my head, as I go along. Tell, rather than write, because I have nothing to write with and writing is in any case forbidden. But if it’s a story, even in my head, I must be telling it ti someone. You don’t tell a story only to yourself. There’s always someone else. Even when there is no one. »

« Something has been shown to me, but wha is it ? Like the flag of an unknown country, seen for an instant above a curve of hill, it could mean attack, it could mean parley, it could mean the edge of something, a territory. »

« The bathroom is beside the bedroom. It’s papered in small blue flowers, forget-me-nots, with curtains to match. »

« I think about the blood coming out of him, hot as soup, sexual, over my hands. »

«  I cram both hands over my mouth as if I’m about to be sick, drop to my knees, the laughter boiling like lava in my throat. I crawl into the cupboard, draw up my knees, I’ll choke on it. My ribs hur with holding back, I shake, I heave, seismic, volcanic, I’ll burst. Red all over the cupboard, mirth rhymes with birth, oh to die of laughter. »

« Why is it that night falls, instead of rising, like the dawn ? »

« I breathe in the soap smell, the disinfectant smell, and stand in the white bathroom, listening to the distant sounds of water running, toilets being flushed. In a strange way I feel comforted, at home. There is something reassuring about the toilets. Bodily functions at least remain democratic. Everybody shits, as Moira would say. »

« In my lap is a handful of crumpled stars. »

The Handmaid’s Tale – Margaret Atwood

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