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Mark Haddon - The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time

evo sam tek pocela citat jednu knjigu i apsolutno je moram uvalit nekome... ako ocete ja cu vam je poslat... ili skinite ili narucite... enivej knjiga je pisana u prvom licu, tako da ispada da je pise autisticni 15ogodisnjak. citala sam na amazonu komentar jednog autisticnog tipa i on je rekao da ih knjiga prilicno dobro opisuje. eo, cak cu se donekle potrudit prevest sadrzaj s amazona...

petnaestogodisnji Christopher John Francis Boone je matematicki nadaren i socijalno beznadan, odgojen u radnickoj klasi od roditelja koji se tek jedva nose s njegovim hmm duhom. da budem doslovna. sve što vidi ili što u se kaže svaca doslovno i ne moze svatit cudno ponasanje svojih vrsnjaka i odraslih.

kasno jedne noci Christopher nade susjedovu pudlicu Wellingtona, probodenu vrtnim vilama. wellingtonova vlasnica ga pronade kako grli mrtvog psa i da ga uvapsit. nakon sto provede noc u zatvoru Christopher odluci - unatoc protivljenju svog oca i susjeda - otkriti ko je ubio Wellingtona. Siobhan, socijalna radnica u nejgovoj skoli, ga potice da napise knjigu o svojoj istrazi i rezultat, duhovito ilustriran je "The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time".

a evo vam i ulomak ...

11. Then the police arrived. I like the police. They have uniforms and numbers and you know what they are meant to be doing. There was a policewoman and a policeman. The policewoman had a little hole in her tights on her left ankle and a red scratch in the middle of the hole. The policeman had a big orange leaf stuck to the bottom of his shoe which was poking out from one side.

The policewoman put her arms round Mrs. Shears and led her back toward the house.

I lifted my head off the grass.

The policeman squatted down beside me and said, "Would you like to tell me what's going on here, young man?"

I sat up and said, "The dog is dead."

"I'd got that far," he said.

I said, "I think someone killed the dog."

"How old are you?" he asked.

I replied, "I am 15 years and 3 months and 2 days."

"And what, precisely, were you doing in the garden?" he asked.

"I was holding the dog," I replied.

"And why were you holding the dog?" he asked.

This was a difficult question. It was something I wanted to do. I like dogs. It made me sad to see that the dog was dead.

I like policemen, too, and I wanted to answer the question properly, but the policeman did not give me enough time to work out the correct answer.

"Why were you holding the dog?" he asked again.

"I like dogs," I said.

"Did you kill the dog?" he asked.

I said, "I did not kill the dog."

"Is this your fork?" he asked.

I said, "No."

"You seem very upset about this," he said.

He was asking too many questions and he was asking them too quickly. They were stacking up in my head like loaves in the factory where Uncle Terry works. The factory is a bakery and he operates the slicing machines. And sometimes a slicer is not working fast enough but the bread keeps coming and there is a blockage. I sometimes think of my mind as a machine, but not always as a bread-slicing machine. It makes it easier to explain to other people what is going on inside it.

The policeman said, "I am going to ask you once again. . ."

I rolled back onto the lawn and pressed my forehead to the ground again and made the noise that Father calls groaning. I make this noise when there is too much information coming into my head from the outside world. It is like when you are upset and you hold the radio against your ear and you tune it halfway between two stations so that all you get is white noise and then you turn the volume right up so that this is all you can hear and then you know you are safe because you cannot hear anything else.

The policeman took hold of my arm and lifted me onto my feet.

I didn't like him touching me like this.

And this is when I hit him.

13. This will not be a funny book. I cannot tell jokes because I do not understand them. Here is a joke, as an example. It is one of Father's.

I know why this is meant to be funny. I asked. It is because drawn has three meanings, and they are (1) drawn with a pencil, (2) exhausted, and (3) pulled across a window, and meaning 1 refers to both the face and the curtains, meaning 2 refers only to the face, and meaning 3 refers only to the curtains.

If I try to say the joke to myself, making the word mean the three different things at the same time, it is like hearing three different pieces of music at the same time, which is uncomfortable and confusing and not nice like white noise. It is like three people trying to talk to you at the same time about different things.

And that is why there are no jokes in this book.

........

e sad, ako primjetite poglavlja su 11 i 13 ... a copy/paste je bio ... e ima i za to objasnjenje :)

19. Chapters in books are usually given the cardinal numbers 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 and so on. But I have decided to give my chapters prime numbers 2, 3, 5, 7, 11, 13 and so on because I like prime numbers.

This is how you work out what prime numbers are.

First you write down all the positive whole numbers in the world.

Then you take away all the numbers that are multiples of 2. Then you take away all the numbers that are multiples of 3. Then you take away all the numbers that are multiples of 4 and 5 and 6 and 7 and so on. The numbers that are left are the prime numbers.

... tri tockice su moje. so... idem dalje citat... samo sam mislila da bi volili znat :D

PS ako budete skidali ilegalnim putevima pokusajte nabavit verziju sa slikama, zabavnija je od one bez :)

PPS nekako mi se cini da bi se knjiga mogla svidit ljudima kojima se svidio vodic. a mozda i nisam u pravu. sta ja znan :)

Objavio Rea u 8. travanj 2005 11:24:00