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De Indische schrijver Vikram Seth werd
geboren op 20 juni 1952 in Kolkata. Zie ook alle tags voor Vikram Seth
op dit blog.
Uit: A Suitable Boy
Lata reflected that of the four brothers and
sisters, the only one who hadn't complained of the match had been the
sweet-tempered, fair-complexioned, beautiful Savita herself.
'He is a little thin, Ma,' said Lata a bit
thoughtlessly. This was putting it mildly. Pran Kapoor, soon to be her
brother-in-law, was lank, dark, gangly, and asthmatic.
'Thin? What is thin? Everyone is trying to
become thin these days. Even I have had to fast the whole day and it is not
good for my diabetes. And if Savita is not complaining, everyone should be
happy with him. Arun and Varun are always complaining: why didn't they choose a
boy for their sister then? Pran is a good, decent, cultured khatri boy.'
There was no denying that Pran, at thirty, was
a good boy, a decent boy, and belonged to the right caste. And, indeed, Lata
did like Pran. Oddly enough, she knew him better than her sister did--or, at
least, had seen him for longer than her sister had. Lata was studying English
at Brahmpur University, and Pran Kapoor was a popular lecturer there. Lata had
attended his class on the Elizabethans, while Savita, the bride, had met him
for only an hour, and that too in her mother's company.
'And Savita will fatten him up,' added Mrs Rupa
Mehra. 'Why are you trying to annoy me when I am so happy? And Pran and Savita
will be happy, you will see. They will be happy,' she continued emphatically.
'Thank you, thank you,' she now beamed at those who were coming up to greet
her. 'It is so wonderful--the boy of my dreams, and such a good family. The
Minister Sahib has been very kind to us. And Savita is so happy. Please eat
something, please eat: they have made such delicious gulabjamuns, but owing to
my diabetes I cannot eat them even after the ceremonies. I am not even allowed
gajak, which is so difficult to resist in winter. But please eat, please eat. I
must go in to check what is happening: the time that the pandits have given is
coming up, and there is no sign of either bride or groom!' She looked at Lata,
frowning. Her younger daughter was going to prove more difficult than her
elder, she decided.
'Don't forget what I told you,' she said in an
admonitory voice.
'Hmm,' said Lata. 'Ma, your handkerchief's
sticking out of your blouse.'
'Oh!' said Mrs Rupa Mehra, worriedly tucking it
in. 'And tell Arun to please take his duties seriously. He is just standing
there in a corner talking to that Meenakshi and his silly friend from Calcutta.
He should see that everyone is drinking and eating properly and having a gala
time.'
Vikram Seth
(Kolkata, 20 juni 1952)
De Ierse dichter en schrijver Paul Muldoon werd geboren in
Portadown, County Armagh, in Noord-Ierland op 20 juni 1951, Zie ook alle tags voor Paul
Muldoon op dit blog.
Hedgehog
The snail moves like a
Hovercraft, held up by a
Rubber cushion of itself,
Sharing its secret
With the hedgehog. The hedgehog
Shares its secret with no one.
We say, Hedgehog, come out
Of yourself and we will love you.
We mean no harm. We want
Only to listen to what
You have to say. We want
Your answers to our questions.
The hedgehog gives nothing
Away, keeping itself to itself.
We wonder what a hedgehog
Has to hide, why it so distrusts.
We forget the god
under this crown of thorns.
We forget that never again
will a god trust in the world.
A Dent
In memory of Michael Allen
The height of one stall at odds with the next in your grandfather's byre
where cattle allowed themselves to speak only at Yule
gave but little sense of why you taught us to admire
the capacity of a three-legged stool
to take pretty much everything in its stride,
even the card-carrying Crow who let out a war-whoop
now your red pencil was poised above my calf-hide
manuscript like a graip above a groop.
The depth of a dent in the flank of your grandfather's cow
from his having leaned his brow
against it morning and night
for twenty years of milking by hand
gave but little sense of how distant is the land
on which you had us set our sights.
Paul Muldoon
(Portadown, 20 juni 1951)
De Duitse schrijver, dichter en kunstenaar Kurt Schwitters werd
geboren op 20 juni 1887 in Hannover. Zie ook alle tags voor Kurt
Schwitters op dit blog.
Uit: Ursonate (Fragment)
Fümms bö wö tää zää
Uu,
pögiff,
kwii Ee.
Oooooooooooooooooooooooo,
dll rrrrr beeeee bö
dll rrrrr beeeee bö
fümms bö,
rrrrr beeeee bö fümms bö wö,
beeeee bö fümms bö wö tää,
bö
fümms bö wö tää zää,
fümms bö wö tää zää Uu:
primera parte:
tema
1:
Fümms bö wö tää zää Uu,
pögiff,
Kwii Ee.
tema
2:
Dedesnn nn rrrrr,
Ii Ee,
mpiff
tillff too,
tillll,
Jüü Kaa?
Kurt Schwitters
(20 juni 1887 8 januari 1948)
9 Portretten, Londen, 1944
De Franse schrijver Jean-Claude Izzo
werd geboren op 20 juni 1945 in Marseille. Zie ook alle tags voor
Jean-Claude Izzo op dit blog.
Uit: Chouma
Au milieu de la
rue Sainte-Françoise, devant le Treize-Coins, un certain José était en train de
laver sa voiture, une R 21 aux couleurs de lO.M. Bleu en bas, blanc en haut. Avec fanion assorti, accroché au rétroviseur, et écharpe des supporters
sur la plage arrière. Musique à fond. Les Gipsy Kings, Bamboleo, Djobi Djoba,
Amor, Amor
Le Best of.
Sicard, le cantonnier, lui avait ouvert la prise deau du caniveau. José avait
pour lui, à volonté, toute la flotte de la ville. De temps en temps, il venait
jusquà la table de Sicard, et sasseyait pour boire le pastis sans quitter des
yeux sa bagnole. Comme si cétait une pièce de collection. Mais peut-être
rêvait-il à la pin-up quil allait embarquer dedans pour une virée à Cassis. En
tout cas, vu le sourire content quil affichait, il ne pensait certainement pas
à son percepteur. Et il prenait son temps, José.
Ici, au quartier, cela se passait toujours ainsi, quand on voulait laver sa
voiture. Les années passaient, et il y avait toujours un Sicard qui offrait
leau si vous payiez le pastis. Fallait vraiment être un cake de Saint-Giniez
pour aller au Lavomatic.
Là, si une autre bagnole arrivait, il lui faudrait attendre que José ait fini.
Y compris de passer, lentement, une peut de chamois sur la carrosserie. En
espérant quun pigeon ne vienne pas chier dessus, juste à cet instant.
Si le conducteur était du Panier, il se prendrait tranquillement lapéro avec
José et Sicard, en parlant du championnat de foot, ironisant, bien sûr, sur les
mauvais scores du PSG. Et ils ne pouvaient être que mauvais, même si les
Parisiens caracolaient en tête du classement. Si cétait un "touriste",
et après quelques coups de klaxon intempestifs, ils pourraient en venir aux
mains. Mais cétait rare. Quand on nest pas du Panier, on ne vient y faire
dengaste. On sécrase et on prend son mal en patience. Mais aucune voiture ne
se présenta et, Loubet et moi, on put manger tranquilles. Personnellement,
je navais rien contre les Gipsy Kings.
Jean-Claude Izzo
(20 juni 1945 26 januari 2000)
De Duitse dichteres, schrijfster en kunsthistorica Silke
Andrea Schuemmer werd geboren op 20 juni 1973 in Aken. Zie ook alle tags voor
Silke Andrea Schuemmer op dit blog.
Wind
II
Beim Fingerzeig des Schornsteins
der Antenne und des Walmdachgrats
spukt ein Rauschen um das Haus
Die Verstorbenen der Wetterhahn
die breite Mundart auch
teilen sich die erste Wolkenschicht
Drin schweben selbst die Sagen
die Gerüchte und Versprechungen
die manchmal von den Dächern falln
wie Schindeln oder Mörtelrest
Vor allem aber der Geruch
von Frischgebackenem und Tang
rutscht übers Dach
Es hängt was in der Luft
das als blasser Schatten vor den Leuten geht
Ganze Koffer voll
Einmachgläser und Münder selbst Lungen
tragen die Touristen nach Haus
Silke Andrea
Schuemmer (Aken, 20 juni 1973)
Aken, het raadhuis aan de Katschhof
Zie voor nog meer schrijvers van de 20e juni ook mijn
blog van 20 juni 2011.
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