Quatro prosas minúsculas de Lydia Davis

In a House Besieged

In a house besieged lived a man and a woman. Frome where they cowered in the kitchen the man and woman heard small explosions. “The wind,” said the woman. “Hunters,” said the man. “The rain,” said the woman. “The army,” said the man. The woman wanted to go home, but she was already home, there in the middle of the country in house besieged.

[in Break it Down, Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1986]

From below, as a neighbor

If I were not me and overheard me from below, as a neighbor, talking to him, I would say to myself how glad I was not to be her, no to be sounding the way she is sounding, with a voice like her voice and an opinion like her opinion. But I cannot hear myself from below, as a neighbor, I cannot hear how I ought not to sound, I cannot be glad I am not her, as I would be if I could hear her. Then again, since I am her, I am not sorry to be here, up above, where I cannot hear her as a neighbor, where I cannot say to myself, as I would have to from below, how glad I am not to be her.

[in Almost no memory, Picador, 1997]

Young and poor

I like working near the baby, here at my desk by lamplight. The baby sleeps.
As though I were young and poor again, I was going to say.
But I am still young and poor.

[in Samuel Johnson is indignant, Picador, 2002]

Order

All day long the old woman struggles with her house and the objects in it: the doors will not shut; the floorboards separate and the clay squeezes up between them; the plaster walls dampen with rain; bats fly down from the attic and invade her wardrobe; mice make nests in her shoes; her fragile dresses fall into tatters from their own weight on the hanger; she finds dead insects everywhere. In desperation she exhausts herself sweeping, dusting, mending, caulking, gluing, and at night sinks into bed holding her hands over her ears so as not to hear the house continue to subside into ruin around her.

[in Varieties of Disturbance, Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2007]



Comentários

One Response to “Quatro prosas minúsculas de Lydia Davis”

  1. Diogo on Maio 6th, 2009 19:41

    Prosas e vídeos:

    Jon Stewart – As 183 simulações de afogamento efectuadas pela CIA em apenas um mês a um terrorista da Al-Qaeda

    Jon Stewart: sendo mais específico, um prisioneiro da Al-Qaeda passou pela simulação de afogamento 183 vezes num mês, e esta é a pior parte: 185 simulações e recebe-se pão de alho de graça. É preciso passar pela simulação de afogamento 183 vezes? O grau de eficácia não diminui? Presumo que, depois de 90 simulações, ele pense: “Não me vão mesmo afogar, pois não?”

    Michael Hayden, director da CIA na era de Bush defendeu a utilização dessas tácticas contra sujeitos que já tinham dito tudo o que sabiam.

    Pivot do Canal de TV: Toda a informação que [Abu Zubaydah] revelou surgiu antes de ter sido sujeito a simulações de afogamento, antes de ser esbofeteado, antes de ser atirado contra uma parede.

    Michael Hayden: devo corrigi-lo. Foi atirado contra uma parede falsa e flexível com uma protecção no pescoço para que não se magoasse.

    Jon Stewart: E, para sermos justos, se me permite, a água que usámos para as simulações era tépida e tinha um pH equilibrado. E as algemas das posições de tensão eram sempre as peludas da Spencer Gifts. Não somos animais!

    VÍDEO legendado em português

«Tenho a suspeita de que a espécie humana - a única - está prestes a extinguir-se e que a Biblioteca perdurará: iluminada, solitária, infinita, perfeitamente imóvel, armada de volumes preciosos, inútil, incorruptível, secreta» Jorge Luis Borges