Atlantis: Three Tales

Atlantis: Three Tales

Samuel R. Delany

Language: English

Pages: 224

ISBN: 0819552836

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub

Atlantis: Three Tales

Samuel R. Delany

Language: English

Pages: 224

ISBN: 0819552836

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


Three marvelously structured stories trace the intricate interdependencies of memory, experience, and the self.

Beyond the Door

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

went down to the end of the block, crossed over, came back, and got on the ticket line to the movie. That’s when I asked you, what we were going to do. And you told me, ‘We’re going to go inside and see that movie!’ Well, I was afraid to leave her, because I knew she was probably going to do something foolish—and I didn’t want her to get in trouble.” “You went into the movie?” Clarice asked. From her tone, Sam realized this was new to her as well. Corey nodded. “We went into the movie,” Elsie

high-tide line on the Manhattan side and forty-four feet six inches below on the Brooklyn side. The workers had a nine-foot high space to dig in, all propped up with six-by-six beams. The pressure was immense—and they used what they called clamshell buckets to haul out the dredgings. Right at the very beginning, young Roebling was down in the caissons inspecting—came up too fast and got the bends. He was a cripple for the rest of his life. So he stayed in the room at the back of where I live now,

doesn’t look exactly like mine, don’t worry. Just relax and do the best you can. You’ll still be surprised at the results.”) And at half an hour’s end, both Nagy and you would have a basket of flowers on a table, a boat hulk beached against a grassy dune (like I said, P-town), a dog sitting before a fireplace, or a small house at the end of a path among the trees and hills. Two or three times, Nagy actually had a young woman sit and model for him, while he, I, and how-many-thousand-more New

grabbed the very startled boy by both cheeks. (For an instant I thought she was about to strike him for some unimaginable infraction!) She kissed his forehead loudly. “Yes, my little strawberry-custard confection! Lines!” She stepped back to clasp her hands again. “That’s exactly what they are!” For a moment, the rest of us were as startled as he. Then, once more, we laughed. But Gwenny had our attention, and as soon as she spoke again we fell into (anxious) quiet. “So, we have two things now

what I was doing and pronounced with some surprise: “That’s really very beautiful!” From then on I was treated as someone talented at art. But I had been as prepared for her to be as dismissive of the whole counterfeit pastiche as she had once been of the horizon lines, the vanishing points, and the basic forms that, now hidden behind layers of gouache, had made that pastiche draftable. Our science teacher was also an artist. Some years before, he’d married the woman who had been my teacher in

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