Read Online A Table of Green Fields by Guy Davenport - Free Book Online
Authors: Guy Davenport
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have to know exactly what you're shaping, where Nikolai Ariel is inside, which 1 do, and which I need to get to all at a go.
Gunnar wore sneakers and an American baseball cap only, his naked body powdered over with marble dust.
Industrial yellow-and-blue work gloves, mallet, chisel.
—So your posing is for the finding you in the stone, that's behind us, and for the finishing and smoothing, which begins tomorrow. By tonight it will be here. I got up this morning with it in my eye, in my hands, all the thousand decisions made.
—Golly.
—Golly exactly.
—You want me around? Can I stay and watch?
—Hand me those goggles over there on the shelf. There's going to be dust when 1 bite into this fucker with the power saw. Samantha's bringing gauze masks, and sandwiches. Edith's away at her sister's. Said something about idols as she left. What she was thinking is that when I'm bringing a work up to the finish line I get raving horny.
—O wow.
—Probably make a little Dane as well as an Ariel, all in a day's work. Get the broom and dustpan and start sacking up the rubble. Into those paper bags it goes, and the bags you put in a neat line in the alley. First, find the wire brush.
Diligence of Nikolai, with stares at Gunnar.
—When did you start, Gunnar? Yesterday the block was my head and shoulders and the outside of my arms and legs, and you were working down the back to my butt. Now about half the rock I was in is on the floor and there're spaces between my arms and body and between my legs, and I can see how the legs are going to be.
—Six this morning. Shooed Edith away around half eight, quoting Scripture. Samantha turned up around nine, made coffee, and got fucked.
—Want me to make more coffee? I get horny, too, posing.
—We can imagine that Shakespeare writing the play, and rehearsing it, and probably acting in it, was not a Lutheran Swede in his great heart.
—First time I was here I went away with balls as tight as a green apple and my handbrother throbbing.
—Goggles. I hear Samantha at the door. And you jacked off twice, panting and mooing.
—Four times. I'm not a baby. Ho, Samantha.
Samantha with her jacket over her head, wet.
—It's raining cats, dogs, and Swedes. The streets are rivers. Nikolai! You count, of course. Gunnar's not in the world when a work fit's on him. When he went full throttle on the Georg Brandes I had to feed him for two days and remind him to pee. Charming reversal: Nikolai practically unrecognizable in clothes, with Gunnar pretty much the way he was born. Reminds me of a horse 1 saw the other day in the paddock at Rungsted Kyst. He was the only gentleman among mares, and he'd slid out half a metre of pizzle, and was frolicking back and forth, ready for the party, in case anybody invited him. Ear-to-ear fun, Nikolai's face.
—One foot's here, said Gunnar to himself. The other one's there. Nikolai's going to grit his big square teeth and lay out the sandwiches and make coffee while there's an urgent party upstairs, if some of us take off our knickers.
—Don't have any on.
A sudden hug for Nikolai, and a kiss on the mouth.
—Don't get your feelings hurt. Be brave. Understand. We'll owe you a big favor.
Rain light. The coffee-maker was sort of like the one at home, with cannister and paper filter, reservoir in its back. Should he bolt? He would play it cool. That's how Mikkel
GUNNAR AND NIKOLAI • 55
would see it through, pants poked out in front and all.
Bedspring music from upstairs, and grunts. A sweet laugh. Swarm of honey in his testicles. We're breathing through our mouth, aren't we, Nikolai, and feeling reckless? We're pouring sugar all over the table, everywhere but in the sugar-bowl. We're rattling cups and saucers.
He put the bag of sandwiches on the coffee table. He sat, looking as if he had a folded fish in his pants. He stuck his fingers in his ears, instantly taking them out. This was a learning experience. In Gunnar
Gunnar wore sneakers and an American baseball cap only, his naked body powdered over with marble dust.
Industrial yellow-and-blue work gloves, mallet, chisel.
—So your posing is for the finding you in the stone, that's behind us, and for the finishing and smoothing, which begins tomorrow. By tonight it will be here. I got up this morning with it in my eye, in my hands, all the thousand decisions made.
—Golly.
—Golly exactly.
—You want me around? Can I stay and watch?
—Hand me those goggles over there on the shelf. There's going to be dust when 1 bite into this fucker with the power saw. Samantha's bringing gauze masks, and sandwiches. Edith's away at her sister's. Said something about idols as she left. What she was thinking is that when I'm bringing a work up to the finish line I get raving horny.
—O wow.
—Probably make a little Dane as well as an Ariel, all in a day's work. Get the broom and dustpan and start sacking up the rubble. Into those paper bags it goes, and the bags you put in a neat line in the alley. First, find the wire brush.
Diligence of Nikolai, with stares at Gunnar.
—When did you start, Gunnar? Yesterday the block was my head and shoulders and the outside of my arms and legs, and you were working down the back to my butt. Now about half the rock I was in is on the floor and there're spaces between my arms and body and between my legs, and I can see how the legs are going to be.
—Six this morning. Shooed Edith away around half eight, quoting Scripture. Samantha turned up around nine, made coffee, and got fucked.
—Want me to make more coffee? I get horny, too, posing.
—We can imagine that Shakespeare writing the play, and rehearsing it, and probably acting in it, was not a Lutheran Swede in his great heart.
—First time I was here I went away with balls as tight as a green apple and my handbrother throbbing.
—Goggles. I hear Samantha at the door. And you jacked off twice, panting and mooing.
—Four times. I'm not a baby. Ho, Samantha.
Samantha with her jacket over her head, wet.
—It's raining cats, dogs, and Swedes. The streets are rivers. Nikolai! You count, of course. Gunnar's not in the world when a work fit's on him. When he went full throttle on the Georg Brandes I had to feed him for two days and remind him to pee. Charming reversal: Nikolai practically unrecognizable in clothes, with Gunnar pretty much the way he was born. Reminds me of a horse 1 saw the other day in the paddock at Rungsted Kyst. He was the only gentleman among mares, and he'd slid out half a metre of pizzle, and was frolicking back and forth, ready for the party, in case anybody invited him. Ear-to-ear fun, Nikolai's face.
—One foot's here, said Gunnar to himself. The other one's there. Nikolai's going to grit his big square teeth and lay out the sandwiches and make coffee while there's an urgent party upstairs, if some of us take off our knickers.
—Don't have any on.
A sudden hug for Nikolai, and a kiss on the mouth.
—Don't get your feelings hurt. Be brave. Understand. We'll owe you a big favor.
Rain light. The coffee-maker was sort of like the one at home, with cannister and paper filter, reservoir in its back. Should he bolt? He would play it cool. That's how Mikkel
GUNNAR AND NIKOLAI • 55
would see it through, pants poked out in front and all.
Bedspring music from upstairs, and grunts. A sweet laugh. Swarm of honey in his testicles. We're breathing through our mouth, aren't we, Nikolai, and feeling reckless? We're pouring sugar all over the table, everywhere but in the sugar-bowl. We're rattling cups and saucers.
He put the bag of sandwiches on the coffee table. He sat, looking as if he had a folded fish in his pants. He stuck his fingers in his ears, instantly taking them out. This was a learning experience. In Gunnar
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