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12

A Silver Dish

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terms
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notes

Bellow, S. (2013). A Silver Dish. In Bellow, S. Collected Stories. Penguin Classics, pp. 12-12

13

What do you do about death - in this case, the death of an old father? If you're a modern person, sixty years of age, and a man who's been around, like Woody Selbst, what do you do? Take this matter of mourning, and take it against a contemporary background. How, against a contemporary background, do you mourn an octogenarian father, nearly blind, his heart enlarged, his lungs filling with fluid, who creeps, stumbles, gives off the odors, the moldiness or gassiness, of old men. I mean! As Woody put it, be realistic. Think what times these are. [...]

—p.13 by Saul Bellow 2 years, 11 months ago

What do you do about death - in this case, the death of an old father? If you're a modern person, sixty years of age, and a man who's been around, like Woody Selbst, what do you do? Take this matter of mourning, and take it against a contemporary background. How, against a contemporary background, do you mourn an octogenarian father, nearly blind, his heart enlarged, his lungs filling with fluid, who creeps, stumbles, gives off the odors, the moldiness or gassiness, of old men. I mean! As Woody put it, be realistic. Think what times these are. [...]

—p.13 by Saul Bellow 2 years, 11 months ago
19

But on this Sunday, at peace as soon as the bells stopped banging, this velvet autumn day when the grass was finest and thickest, silky green: before the first frost, and the blood in your lungs is redder than summer air can make it and smarts with oxygen, as if the iron in your system was hungry for it, and the chill was sticking it to you in every breath ... Pop, six feet under, would never feel this blissful sting again. The last of the bells still had the bright air streaming with vibrations.

lovely

—p.19 by Saul Bellow 2 years, 11 months ago

But on this Sunday, at peace as soon as the bells stopped banging, this velvet autumn day when the grass was finest and thickest, silky green: before the first frost, and the blood in your lungs is redder than summer air can make it and smarts with oxygen, as if the iron in your system was hungry for it, and the chill was sticking it to you in every breath ... Pop, six feet under, would never feel this blissful sting again. The last of the bells still had the bright air streaming with vibrations.

lovely

—p.19 by Saul Bellow 2 years, 11 months ago

(noun) a singing voice having a range between tenor and mezzo-soprano / (noun) a person having this voice / (noun) the part sung by a contralto

29

in her Scandinavian accent - an emotional contralto

—p.29 by Saul Bellow
confirm
2 years, 11 months ago

in her Scandinavian accent - an emotional contralto

—p.29 by Saul Bellow
confirm
2 years, 11 months ago