Sicilian Carousel
Lawrence Durrell
Language: English
Pages: 295
ISBN: 1604190159
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
Although Durrell spent much of his life beside the Mediterranean, he wrote relatively little about Italy; it was always somewhere that he was passing through on the way to somewhere else. Sicilian Carousel is his only piece of extended writing on the country and, naturally enough for the islomaniac Durrell, it focuses on one of Italy's islands. Sicilian Carousel came relatively late in Durrell's career, and is based around a slightly fictionalized bus tour of the island.
The White War: Life and Death on the Italian Front 1915-1919
Of enclosure, they were simply the fruits and flowers of the earth. It is significant perhaps that there were no treatises written upon gardening until the late Hellenistic era. Temple groves and gardens followed—I am thinking that Plato (who was nearly murdered in Sicily by the tyrant of the day) rejoiced when his academy in the valley of Kephissos was transformed into a “well-watered grove with trim avenues and shady walks”; nearby too was the academy of his rival Epicurus, laid out, they say,.
Many green apples. But Mario got us back to the hotel in record time and here everyone showed anxiety and concern for the patient as we helped her out of the bus and up the steps into the hotel. The infant was there, all eyes, but playing no part. It was one huge gape—if a microscope can be said to be a gape. Our faces would have made an interesting study in concern—selfish concern, for we did not know whether this attack of illness might not prejudice the tour. Also, as almost nobody in the.
In the fountains, infected by all this blazing light and excitement. A whole market garden of flowers had sprung up in one quarter which they doused down with water every few minutes. It gave off a smell of wet earth like paradise. No wonder the hotels were short of bathwater! Livestock too was coming into town in lorries and being planked down beneath the booths and stalls; pigeons, ducks, quail and chickens, and morbidly sensitive rabbits! Miss Lobb thought herself in Paradise, and she was sad.
Did, or a clutch of gaudy postcards, for the old Count did, or a charm against the evil eye, for Roberto did. This he handed to Beddoes to preserve him from harm. In a way it sort of accredited us to the townspeople of Cefalu and made us feel at home straight off. But owing to the fool one-way street we had to do that last hundred yards on foot, a pleasant martyrdom for the square in which the church stands is a handsome one. Once again we had the place more or less to ourselves, and once more.
Loftus really meant was that she was a Mediterranean, by which he meant a pagan; she belonged to the Astarte-Aphrodite of Erice rather than to Holy Mary of Rome. I did not elaborate on all this, it was not our business. At any rate she had satisfactorily managed to answer the question I had put to her in the Latomie at Syracuse; the word “yes” had been exactly where I had asked her to arrange for it to be. But about the question, it went something like this: “Do you remember all our studies and.