vw waves section 1 Flashcards
[Louis] but let me be unseen. I am green as a yew tree in the shade of the hedge
my hai is made of leaves. I am rooted in the middle of the earth
[Jinny] What moved the leaves?
what moves my heart, my legs?
[Jinny] and I kissed you, with my heart jumping
under my pink dress like the leaves, which go on moving though there is nothing to move them
[Susan] I will take my anguish and lay it upon the roots under the beech trees. I will examine it and take it between my fingers
they will not find me. I shall eat nuts and peer for eggs through the brambles and my hair will be matted and I shall sleep under hedges and drink water from ditches and die there
[bernard] she has passed the tool house door with her handkerchief screwed into a ball. she was not crying but her eyes, which are so beautiful,
were narrow as cats’ eyes before they spring. I shall follow her
she thinks she is unseen: she begins to run
with her fists clinched in front of her
Susan has spread her anguish out
her pocket handkerchief is laid on the roots of the beech trees and she sobs, sitting crumpled where she has fallen
she danced in flecked diamonds as
dusts
the yellow warmth in my side turned to stone when I saw Jenny Kiss Louis
I shall eat grass and die in a ditch in the brown water where dead leaves have rotted
I hear nothing
that is only the murmur of the wind in the air
[Roada with petals] and I will now rock the brown basin from side to side so that my
ships may ride the waves
[Roada] they have scattered they have foundered, all except my ship which
mounts the wave and sweeps before the gale and reaches the island where the parrots chatter and the creepers…
[Neville] now we must drop our toys now we must go in together
the copy-books are laid out side by side on the treen baize table
[Louis] My father is a banker in Brisbane and I speak with an Australian accent. I will wait and copy
Bernard. he is English. they are all English
my roots are threaded like fibres in a flower pot, round and round about the world
I do not wish to come to the top and live in the light of this great clock, yellow-faced, which ticks and ticks
they laugh at my neatness, at my Australian accent
I will now try to imitate Bernard softly lisping Latin
those are yellow words
[jinny] those are fiery words
Jinny and Susan, Bernard and Neville bind themselves into a thong with which
to lash me
‘Each tense’ said Neville, “means differently. There is an order in this world; there are distinctions
there are differences in this world; upon whose verge I step
they slam the door. Miss Hudson goes. I am left alone to find an answer. the figures mean nothing now
meaning has gone. the clock ticks. the two hands are convoys marching through a desert
the world is entire and I am outside of it
crying, ‘oh save me from being blown for ever outside the loop of time
‘let us crawl’ said bernard, ‘under the canopy of the underworld. let us take possession of our secret territory
which is lit by pendant currants like candelabra, shining red on onesie, black on the other
this is our
universe
those are Louis’ neat sand-show firmly printing on the gravel. Here come warm gusts of decomposing leaves
of rotting vegetation. we are in a swamp now; in a malarial jungle
but we are doomed all of us, by the apple trees, by the immitigable
tree which we cannot pass
the ripple of my life was unavailing.
I was unable to pass pass by. there was an obstacle
Rhoda dreams, sucking a crust soaked in milk; Luis regards the wall opposite with snail green eyes; bernard moulds his bread into pellets and calls them ‘people’
Neville with his clean and decisive ways has finished (…) jinny spins her fingers on the table cloth, as if they were dancing in the sunshine, pirouetting
it is difficult not to wear as we sing, as we pray that God may keep us safe while we sleep, calling ourselves little children
when we are sad and trembling with apprehension it is sweet to sing together, leaning slightly, I towards Susan towards brand, clasping hands afraid of much, I of my accent, Rhoda of figures; yet resolute to conquer
we troop upstairs
Like ponies said Bernard
water pours down the runnel of my spine,. bright arrows of sensation shoot on either side
I am covered with warm flesh
my dry crannies are wetted; my cold body is warmed; it is sluiced and gleaming
water descends and sheets me like an eel
now hot towels envelope me and their roughness as I rub my back
makes my blood purr
rich and heavy sensations form on the
roof of my mind
down showers the day
the woods; and Elvedon; Susan and the pigeon
pouring down the walls of my mind, running together
the day falls copious, resplendent
