North by Louis-Ferdinand Céline

Author:Louis-Ferdinand Céline
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Autobiographical fiction, War stories, Historical fiction, Historical, Biographical, World War, 1939-1945, 1939-1945 - Fiction, Fiction, Literary, Adventure stories, War & Military, General, Picaresque literature
ISBN: 9781564781420
Publisher: Dalkey Archive Press
Published: 2011-12-01T04:21:40+00:00

Comics? . . . Comics? . . . an artist? I'm not really convinced . . . he won't find one . . . some obliging "comer-backer" . . . the ones I know have denounced me from every direction, they're scared vicious . . . comics, though . . . I read them as a kid . . . in seven colors . . . Les Belles Images, 10 centimes . . . but even contracting my book to the limit, I don't quite see how it could sell considering the present state of the newsstands and bookstores . . . all puking up returns . . . the public's in such a hurry, so blasé, so alcoholic, so tired . . . they don't read any more . . . oh, maybe some little fruit story? . . . madness in the nursery? . . . the confessions of a sexhilarated governess? . . . which makes me look pretty sick with my tales of flames, phosphorus, and earthquakes . . .

I was telling you about Inge, the cripple, the bibelforschers, the Kretzers, our mahlzeit of lukewarm water soup in the tall gloomy dining room under the portrait of the guy who was to set himself on fire a few months later . . . heil! heil! all the others pretended to like the soup . . . like us . . . they asked for more . . . like us . . . they had to, the typists and bookkeepers . . . a display of optimism and high morale . . . Kracht, the SS pharmacist, Herr Kretzer, director of the Archives-in-Hiding, his wife the nervous weeper, and the three of us . . . we all took second helpings of that splendid succulent soup! . . . you wouldn't get us to turn it down! . . . the little hunchback too . . . she smacked her lips . . . she'd stopped going to Berlin, she'd stopped bringing back fish, she hadn't seen her parents in months . . . their impregnable bunker had taken a haymaker . . . cracked, split, and splattered . . . with her parents in it! . . . good subject to steer clear of . . . The lukewarm soup in the dishes rippled and trembled . . . tiny little waves . . . from the pounding and clobbering . . . of Berlin, I've told you about it, seventy miles away! not just the soup, the glasses of water too and the portrait of Adolf . . . in its gilt frame . . . we weren't getting any more "communiqués," but we could tell by the soup and the glassware that it was coming closer every day . . . the Russian armies, I guessed . . . most of the ruckus came from the east . . . probably catching Berlin in a pincers movement . . . they'd be here pretty soon .

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