|women of algiers in their apartment
||[Jul. 1st, 2006|11:42 am]
First Paragraph Book Recommendations
Author: Assia Djebar|
Title: Women of Algiers in Their Apartment
A young woman's head, blindfolded, neck thrown backward, hair pulled back - the fog in the narrow room prevents one from seeing its color - either light chestnut, auburn rather, might it be Sarah? no, not black... The skin seems transparent, a drop of sweat on the temple... The drop is going to fall. That noseline, the lower lip with its bright pink edge: I do know it, I recognize it! And the profile pitches sharply; to the right, to the left. A light rocking without the lullaby voice of the wet nurse who would keep us warm together in the tall and somber bed of childhood. It pitches down to the right, to the left, without the weeping of gentle sorrow, the droplet of sweat has become a tear, a second tear. Smoke rising in spirals. The left half of the blindfolded face (white bandage, not black, she is not condemned, she must have put it on herself, she's going to rip it off, she's going to burst out laughing, explode with life in front of me, she...), the left half streaming wet all over in the silence, rather in the severed sound, the gasps stuck in her throat like a fishbone; the other part of the face, profile of stone, distant statue that's going to float backward, always backward. Sound severed... Sarah... Call her, quavering in the call to prevent the sacrifice, what sacrifice...