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De Amerikaanse schrijfster Amy Tan werd geboren in Oakland, Ohio, op 19 februari 1952. Zie ook alle tags voor Amy Tan op dit blog.xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" />
Uit: Two Kinds
My mother believed you could be anything you wanted to be in America. You could open a restaurant. You could work for the government and get good retirement. You could buy a house with almost no money down. You could become rich. You could become instantly famous.
"Of course, you can be a prodigy, too," my mother told me when I was nine. "You can be best anything. What does Auntie Lindo know? Her daughter, she is only best tricky."
America was where all my mother's hopes lay. She had come to San Francisco in 1949 after losing everything in China: her mother and father, her home, her first husband, and two daughters, twin baby girls. But she never looked back with regret. Things could get better in so many ways.
We didn't immediately pick the right kind of prodigy. At first my mother thought I could be a Chinese Shirley Temple. We'd watch Shirley's old movies on TV as though they were training films. My mother would poke my arm and say, "Ni kan.You watch." And I would see Shirley tapping her feet, or singing a sailor song, or pursing her lips into a very round O while saying "Oh, my goodness."
Ni kan," my mother said, as Shirley's eyes flooded with tears. "You already know how. Don't need talent for crying!"
Soon after my mother got this idea about Shirley Temple, she took me to the beauty training school in the Mission District and put me in the hands of a student who could barely hold the scissors without shaking. Instead of getting big fat curls, I emerged with an uneven mass of crinkly black fuzz. My mother dragged me off to the bathroom and tried to wet down my hair.
"You look like a Negro Chinese," she lamented, as if I had done this on purpose.
Amy Tan (Oakland, 19 februari 1952)
De Russische schrijver Dmitri Lipskerov werd geboren op 19 februari 1964 in Moskou. Zie ook alle tags voor Dmitri Lipskerov op dit blog.
Uit: The Last Sleep of Reason (Vertaald door Dmitri Priven)
The detective was embarrassed but expressed hope that the size of his thighs might still be sufficient for a record.
"You think you're the only one, don't you?!" the assistant exploded. "Damn it, legs like yours are a dime a dozen!"
An investigation of sorts was carried out, at the end of which nurse Petrovna was fired in a twinkling of an eye for taking the matter into her own hands. Sinichkin saw her baffled back in the window and felt sad for the little old lady who had worked in the hospital for forty-five years: her career was ending so pitiably.
In the meantime, Volodya's legs continued to shrink; they were withering by the minute, and by the time the Guinness Book of Records man with his film crew arrived, they had turned into a pair of just overly fat limbs, which did not impress Mr. Zhechkov at all.
"What's with the legs?" inquired the representative.
"Got flat," replied one of the doctors.
"Well, no legs - no record!" said Zhechka indifferently, snapped his fingers and showed the film crew to the door.
"Wait a minute!" the acting head physician was beginning to panic. "You saw them yourself, didn't you?"
"I did," agreed the representative. "But we've got to have the proof! And you haven't got it! If the legs swell up again, call me. I'll come right away!"
Having said that, the Bulgarian headed off.
"Get him ready for discharge!" ordered the acting head, giving Sinichkin a hateful eye.
"What are you talking about!" protested the detective. "I can't even walk!"
"Ten officers are wounded in this city each and every day! You are taking up the bed of one of our heroes!"
Dmitri Lipskerov (Moskou, 19 februari 1964)
De Duitse dichter en schrijver Thomas Brasch werd geboren in Westow,Yorkshire (Engeland) op 19 februari 1945. Zie ook alle tags voor Thomas Brasch op dit blog.
Dornröschen und Schweinefleisch
Wer geht wohin weg
Wer bleibt warum wo
Unter der festen Wolke ein Leck
Alexanderplatz und Bahnhof Zoo
Abschied von morgen Ankunft gestern
Das ist der deutsche Traum
Endlich verbrüdern sich die Schwestern
Zwei Hexen unterm Apfelbaum
Wer schreibt der bleibt
Hier oder weg oder wo
Wer schreibt der treibt
So oder so
Danton
Der Held auf der Bettkante.
Was
er seinen Feinden entriß, haben seine
Freunde
schon unterm Nagel: ihn.
So ist es, bleibt auch so. Bis
sie mich holen und reißen mir den Kopf vom
Hals.
Für weniger als nichts: Für ihre neue Welt.
Thomas Brasch (19 februari 1945 3 november 2001)
De Duitse dichter en schrijver Björn Kuhligk werd geboren op 19 februari 1975 in Berlijn. Zie ook alle tags voor Björn Kuhligk op dit blog.
Die Liebe in den Zeiten der EU
Wie ein Grenzschutz wieder
eine Linie zieht, das muß, es
darf geschossen werden, das
muß, das darf gefilmt werden
wie erdfremd dieser Kontinent
mit Sternchen am Revers, wie der
die Abwehr aufbaut, Mutti macht
noch schnell den Abwasch
als im Süden die ersten Turnschuhe
angespült wurden, später zwei, drei
Zweibeiner gefischt wurden, das muß
es darf zurückgefeuert werden
Brief nach Australien
Daß der Himmel so aussieht
wie er aussieht, Himmel drüber
die Unbedarfheit, mit der man nachts
eine lichtgeflaggte Straße beobachtet
ist diese Gegend das letzte
zwischen hier (Bierbank)
und der Fliehkraft
wir gingen von einer Gegend aus
in eine naheliegende und
fanden nichts als Strom
und Erschütterung
Björn Kuhligk (Berlijn, 19 februari 1975)
Zie voor nog meer schrijvers van de 19e februari ook mijn blog van 19 februari 2001 deel 2 en eveneens deel 3.
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