Truly I was exhausted, and I felt wretched. The trip to the town, the black soldier’s supper – after the long days’ work my body was as heavy as a sponge soaked with fatigue. Taking off my shirt, which was covered with dried leaves and burrs, I bent over to wipe my dirty feet with a rag, a demonstration for my brother’s sake that I had no desire to accept further questions. My brother observed me worriedly, his lips pursed. I crawled in next to him and burrowed under our blanket with its smell of sweat and small animals. My brother sat there watching me, his knees together and pressing against my shoulder, not asking any more questions. It was just as he sat when I was sick with fever, and I too, just as when I was sick with fever, longed only to sleep.
It's from Ōe Kenzaburō, "Prize Stock" (1958) - in Teach Us To Outgrow Our Madness.
What would you do with such a passage? I pick these out with such loving care and trepidation, and with some excitement about the fireworks my students might suddenly prove able to produce for me at this late stage. They often do surprise me at the last hurdle, to make me feel as if the whole thing has been worthwhile. This time, though, I feel rather crestfallen at the number of answers which do little more than tell me, in more or less roundabout ways, that the narrator is really very tired. So am I!
What would you do with such a passage? I pick these out with such loving care and trepidation, and with some excitement about the fireworks my students might suddenly prove able to produce for me at this late stage. They often do surprise me at the last hurdle, to make me feel as if the whole thing has been worthwhile. This time, though, I feel rather crestfallen at the number of answers which do little more than tell me, in more or less roundabout ways, that the narrator is really very tired. So am I!
2 comments:
It's a super passage, with so many aspects. Where had he been? It seems likely that they are somewhere very wild, probably a malarial region, and obviously he and his brother are very close. What a description of tiredness too, especially the image of the sponge. Which small animals? I want to read more.
Stylistically vivid:the filth,the smells, and the physical closeness of the brothers, with the little one pressing against the narrator's shoulder even as they don't speak--they don't need words to communicate, like other animals.
How's that, Teach?
Seriously though, I hope you got a good nugget or two at least from the students? If not, maybe just getting the grading over with and diving into the next term might help.
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