"Snow" continued...

Our city is a peaceful place
The outlying districts

Veiling as it did the dirt, the mud, and the darkness, the snow would continue to speak to Ka of purity, but after his first days in Kars it no longer promised innoccence. [...] Instead, the snow spoke to him of hopelesness and misery. [...] These sights spoke of a strange and powerfull loneliness. It was as if he were in a place that the whole world had forgotten, as if it were snowing at the end of the world. [...] They sat on old divans and crooked chairs in tiny icy rooms with earthen floors covered by machine-made carpets, and every time they moved from one house to the next [...] they had to make their way past children kicking broken plastic cars, one-armed dolls, or empty bottles or boxes of tea and medicine back and forth across the way. As they sat next to stoves that gave out no heat unless stirred continuously, and electric heaters that ran off illegal power lines, and silent television sets that no one ever turned off. [...] the thing that shocked and frightened Ka was the way these girls had killed themselves : abrubtly, without ritual or warning, in the midst of their everyday routines. [...] the deputy governor told Ka. "But if unhappiness were a genuine reason for suicide, half the women in Turkey would be killing themselves." [...] Ka found it strangely depressing that the suicide girls had had to stuggle to find a private moment to kill themselves. Even after swallowing their pills, even as they lay quietly dying, they'd had to share their rooms with others.


Pas un sujet très rose, contrairement à mon humeur en ce moment, mais très bon livre, et je commence seulement. Là je vais essayer de lire un peu de S. Beaulac pour l'école avant que Lu se réveille...