Morning mantra in straws #88119
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Morning Chant in Straws. A novel by Thor Vilhjálmsson.
Thor received the Icelandic Literary Prize in 1998 for Morgunþula í stráum.
I am walking in the snow, he said: The world is snow. Snow below on the ground that swirls up, snow is all the air; the sky falls in shreds on top of us, white in flakes, and then in this all-white world I come to a black puddle, a black pond. To a black sky in a gap of rocks that are about to rise. Suddenly.
He says to himself, out of sleep, alone in the morning mist until the vision disappeared with a fresh gust of dawn, a gust of wind from the trees outside that blew in through the window and made the curtain sail like a horizontal cloud into the hall and shake the rod that held the window open; and he stopped trying to speak into his memory what remained of sleep and a glimmering dream that disappeared with it, except that he only remembered the words as if from there: A black eye in a deep chasm. And he wondered about events since the blackening of hammered steel around its blinding gleam, while everything had been white, but was beginning to gray.
And he began to see the world as it was said to be the world of the world.
Thor received the Icelandic Literary Prize in 1998 for Morgunþula í stráum.
I am walking in the snow, he said: The world is snow. Snow below on the ground that swirls up, snow is all the air; the sky falls in shreds on top of us, white in flakes, and then in this all-white world I come to a black puddle, a black pond. To a black sky in a gap of rocks that are about to rise. Suddenly.
He says to himself, out of sleep, alone in the morning mist until the vision disappeared with a fresh gust of dawn, a gust of wind from the trees outside that blew in through the window and made the curtain sail like a horizontal cloud into the hall and shake the rod that held the window open; and he stopped trying to speak into his memory what remained of sleep and a glimmering dream that disappeared with it, except that he only remembered the words as if from there: A black eye in a deep chasm. And he wondered about events since the blackening of hammered steel around its blinding gleam, while everything had been white, but was beginning to gray.
And he began to see the world as it was said to be the world of the world.