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King Solomon's Mines (Allan Quatermain 1.) 5 csillagozás
Three men trek to the remote African interior in search of a lost friend – and reach, at the end of a perilous journey, an unknown land cut off from the world, where terrible dangers threaten anyone who ventures near the spectacular diamond mines of King Solomon.
Eredeti megjelenés éve: 1885
Tagok ajánlása: Hány éves kortól ajánlod?
Klasszikus késő viktoriánus kalandregény. Utazással, kincskereséssel, elefántvadászattal, egzotikus helyszínekkel, fekete statisztákkal, öt-hat rendkívül képtelen megmeneküléssel, eposzba illő csatával, önfeláldozással. Mondanám, hogy szabványos, de igazából ez a regény alkotta meg azt a bizonyos szabványt. Ja, és gyakorlatilag nők nélkül. Legalábbis az előszó ezt közli az olvasóval, nehogy valaki hamis illúziókba ringassa magát.
Nem ringattam. Tudtam, hogy amelyik viktoriánus regény úgy indul, hogy aszexuális férfiak mászkálnak Afrikában, az úgy tele lesz egyéni és társadalmi elfojtásokkal, hogy hatvan szakdolgozatot tele lehet írni velük.
Tele is lett. Egészen meglepő módokon. Meg még meglepőbb módon még sok más izgalmassággal is tele lett, ezért is kap öt csillagot, és én is azt mondom, hogy megérdemli a helyét az 1001 könyv listáján. De azt hiszem, a szerző lepődne meg a legjobban, ha tudná, hogy miért tartottam izgalmasnak a regényét.
Részletes értékelés a blogon:
„Yes,” answered Sir Henry, „it is far. But there is no journey upon this earth that a man may not make if he sets his heart to it. There is nothing, Umbopa, that he cannot do, there are no mountains he may not climb, there are no deserts he cannot cross, save a mountain and a desert of which you are spared the knowledge, if love leads him and he holds his life in his hand counting it as nothing, ready to keep it or lose it as Heaven may order.”
59-60. oldal (Penguin, 1994)
At last about nine o'clock up she came in all her glory, flooding the wild country with light, and throwing a silver sheen on the expanse of rolling desert before us, which looked as solemn and quiet and as alien to man as the star-studded firmament above.
65. oldal (Penguin, 1994)
Truly the universe is full of ghosts, not sheeted churchyard spectres, but the inextinguishable elements of individual life, which having once been can never die, though they blend and change, and change again for ever.
182-183. oldal (Penguin, 1994)
As for “lung sick,” which is a dreadful form of pneumonia, very prevalent in this country, they [the oxen] had all been inoculated against it. This is done by cutting a slit in the tail of an ox, and binding in a piece of the diseased lung of an animal which had died of the sickness. The result is that the ox sickens, takes the disease in a mild form, which causes its tail to drop off, as a rule about a foot from the root, and becomes proof against future attacks. It seems cruel to rob the animal of its tail, especially in a country where there are so many flies, but it is better to sacrifice the tail and keep the ox than to lose both tail and ox, for a tail without an ox is not much good except to dust with.
(…) the other three [oxen] had died from eating the poisonous herb called „tulip.” Five more sickened from this cause, but we managed to cure them with doses of an infusion made by boiling down the tulip-leaves. If administered in time this is a very effective antidote.
Then I told him that, when we came back, if one of those things was missing I would kill him and all his people by witchcraft; and if we died and he tried to steal the rifles I would come and haunt him and turn his cattle mad and his milk sour till life was a weariness, and would make the devils in the guns come out and talk to him in a way he did not like, and generally gave him a good idea of judgment to come. After that he swore he would look after them as though they were his father's spirit.
63. oldal (Penguin, 1994)
I sat up and rubbed my grimy face with my dry and horny hands. My lips and eyelids were stuck together, and it was only after some rubbing and with an effort that I was able to open them. It was not far off the dawn, but there was none of the bright feel of dawn in the air, which was thick with a hot murkiness I cannot describe.
(…) I observed the wizened, monkey-like figure creeping up from the shadow of the hut. It crept on all fours, but when it reached the place where the king sat it rose upon its feet, and, throwing the furry covering off its face, revealed a most extraordinary and weird countenance. It was (apparently) that of a woman of great age, so shrunken that in size it was no larger than that of a year-old child and was made up of a collection of deep, yellow wrinkles. Set in the wrinkles was a sunken slit that represented the mouth, beneath which the chin curved outward to a point. There was no nose to speak of; indeed, the whole countenance might have been taken for that of a sun-dried corpse had it not been for a pair of large black eyes, still full of fire and intelligence, which gleamed and played under the snow-white eyebrows and the projecting parchment-coloured skull, like jewels in a charnel-house. As for the skull itself, it was perfectly bare, and yellow in hue, while its wrinkled scalp moved and contracted like the hood of a cobra.
A sorozat következő kötete
|Allan Quatermain sorozat · Összehasonlítás|
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