Jeg tenkte jeg skulle presentere listen min for dere, men jeg har slanket den en smule. De jeg ikke lenger regner som favoritter er tatt vekk. Kanskje dere kan finne lesetips blant alle mine favoritter? Listen vil ihvertfall gi dere et innblikk i min boksmak. Jeg linker til bøkene jeg har skrevet om på bloggen, og i tillegg legger jeg ved en pitteliten smakebit fra hver bok.
MINE 60 FAVORITTBØKER
An odd thought suddenly struck him. It took him by considerable surprise, but he couldn't really see what was wrong with it.
There was a point to this story, but it has temporarily escaped the chronicler's mind.
Ingen husket hvem som foreslo det først. Det ble bare sagt, kanskje som en spøk, som overmot. Men det var blitt sagt, og ingen hadde protestert. De hadde hisset hverandre opp, det var for uvirkelig, det var en lek. Men så tok agenten, majoren fra Den svarte hånd, kontakt med dem. Det kom som en glidende åpenbaring, en vidunderlig mulighet til å utrette noe stort som for all evighet ville bli gravert inn i folkets minne … Tronfølgeren var selve innbegrepet av den østerrikske undertrykkelsen. De tre bestemte seg for å befri fedrelandet for den skam han påførte dem.
It's June second, he told himself. Try to remember that. This is New York, and tomorrow will be June third. If all goes well, the following day will be the fourth. But nothing is certain.
We listen to what people say, we read what they write - that's our evidence, that's our corroboration. But if the face contradicts that speaker's words, we interrogate the face. A shifty look in the eye, a rising blush, the uncontrollable twitch of a face muscle - and then we know. We recognize the hypocrisy or the false claim, and the truth stands evident before us.
In idle moments I sometimes like to close my eyes and imagine Joseph Goebbels' forty-third birthday party … I like to think that even in the busy autumn of 1940, Hitler might have found time to organise a surprise party for his close friend - pretending for weeks that the date had slipped his mind, deliberately ignoring the Propaganda Minister's increasingly sulky and awkward hints, and waiting until the very last order had been dispatched to his U-boat commanders on the evening of Tuesday, 29 October before he led Goebbels on some pretext into the cocktail lounge of the Reich Chancellery.
The General trusts and approves of anyone in a uniform, and he smiles delightedly. He thinks that no doubt the policeman has some weighty issues to deal with, and feels the need to take advantage of his wider and deeper experience. The Policeman ushers him gently into the alleyway beside the pub where Peter the Great once stayed, when Godalming was on the main wool route to London. 'Do you realise, sir,' asks the officer, 'that you have gone shopping without your trousers on?' Sensitively he refrains from mentioning the lack of underwear. Fortunately the tails of the shirt are long, and any indecency is sufficiently concealed in shadow.
…Indians made very inadequate slaves. They would not give up their gods and preferred to starve themselves to death rather than submit to indignity. The Negroes on the other hand, being from different parts of West Africa, had no common language, so it was a simple matter to confuse them and to brutalise them into being enlightened by Christianity.
Figuring it was the proper thing to do, I carried her body to her family. In my desert vocabulary I tried to find some words of condolence and apology, but all I managed to do was massacre her parents and rape her sister. I really wasn't made for social life.
He was a dear man, the vicar, but dreadfully naive, and I sometimes thought that there were certain aspects of life and death which eluded him completely.
Now I could see one thing only: the greyish ringlets of the windpipe. I thrust the sharp knife into it - and froze in horror. The windpipe was coming out of the incision and the feldsher appeared to have taken leave of his wits: he was tearing it out. Behind me the two midwives gasped. I looked up and saw what was the matter: the feldsher had fainted from the oppressive heat and, still holding the hook, was tearing at the windpipe. 'It's fate,' I thought, 'everything is against me. We've certainly murdered Lidka now.' And I added grimly to myself: 'As soon as I get back to my room, I'll shoot myself.'
By the force of things, this last remnant of decorum went by the board, and men and women were flung into the death-pits indiscriminately. Happily this ultimate indignity synchronized with the plague's last ravages.
My name is Brodeck and I had nothing to do with it. I insist on that. I want everyone to know it.
They set off one morning to work in the paddy fields, with the child, and by evening they had not returned. The old man ran. He was out of breath when he arrived at the rice field. It was nothing but a vast hole, bubbling with water, with the corpse of a disembowelled buffalo lying on one side of the crater, its yoke broken in two like a bit of straw. There was also his son's body, and his son's wife's body, and further away the little girl, her eyes wide open, unharmed and wrapped in a blanket, and beside the child a doll, her own doll, the same size as her, which had had its head blown off by the blast of the bomb. The little girl was ten days old. Her parents had called her Sang diû, which in the local language means 'mild morning'. This was the name they had given her, and then they had died. Monsieur Linh had taken the child. He set off. He decided to leave forever. For the child's sake.
'Some trees love an ax,' a drunk old-timer mumbled one night at the Tap, back when she still went there, and something in what he said rang true, but when she later remembered what he'd said, she disagreed and thought instead that the tree gets used to the ax, which has nothing to do with love. It settles into being chipped away at, bit by bit, blade by blade, until it doesn't feel anything anymore, and then, because nothing else can happen, what's left crumbles to dust.
Han er takknemmelig for at moren beskytter ham mot farens normalitet, det vil si mot farens leilighetsvise blåøyde raserianfall og trusler om juling. Samtidig er han sint på moren fordi hun gjør ham til noe unormalt, noe som trenger beskyttelse for å kunne leve.
We blamed the local wicked stepmother for the whole apple business, but, well, if there's a lesson to be learned from all this, it's to make sure that the person you're going to wrongfully blame for doing something bad is actually available for selection, as it were. There was a trial, we got suspended sentences on the grounds of provocation combined with lack of sufficient evidence, and we were told that if anything happened to Snow White again, if she even chipped a nail, we'd be for it.
Crace, Jim - Harvest
They were far from their own wives and mothers. And they were far from a restraining word. And there were no witnesses that counted. No matter what they did last evening, they could claim they did it only at their master's bidding.
Dexter, Colin - The Wench is Dead
He was somewhat of a loner by temperament - but though never wholly happy when alone, he was usually slightly more miserable when with other people.
He himself pees off the balcony and defecates in the garden, but only because he would rather be alone for these activities. Only recently, now that they have penetrated deep into German territory, has the fury of the soldiers reached such a level that they are using the insides of their own bodies to wage war. The more German houses they set foot in, the more painfully they are faced with the question of why the Germans were unable to remain in a place where nothing at all, not the slightest little thing, was lacking.
Afterwards, Walter read the newspaper she had brought home. 'The revolution in Munich is over,' he said. 'For good?' Walter shrugged. 'They've caught the leader. It's Adolf Hitler.' 'The head of the party Robert joined?' 'Yes. He's been charged with high treason. He's in jail.' 'Good,' said Maud with relief. 'Thank God that's over.'
Gardam, Jane - Old Filth
No. It was Old Filth. Great advocate, judge and - bit of a wit. Said to have invented FILTH - Failed In London Try Hong Kong. He tried Hong Kong. Modest, nice chap.
Secrets had an immense attraction to him, because he never could keep one, and he enjoyed the sort of unhallowed thrill he experienced when he went and told another animal, after having faithfully promised not to.
Harris, Sam - Letter to a Christian Nation
While believing strongly, without evidence, is considered a mark of madness or stupidity in any other area of our lives, faith in God still holds immense prestige in our society. Religion is the one area of our discourse where it is considered noble to pretend to be certain about things no human being could possibly be certain about. It is telling that this aura of nobility extends only to those faiths that still have many subscribers. Anyone caught worshipping Poseidon, even at sea, will be thought insane.
Heller, Joseph - Catch-22
'You have deep-seated survival anxieties. And you don't like bigots, bullies, snobs or hypocrites. Subconsciously there are many people you hate.' 'Consciously, sir, consciously,' Yossarian corrected in an effort to help. 'I hate them consciously.'
To the dumb question 'Why me?' the cosmos barely bothers to return the reply: Why not?
Djali trotted along behind them, so overjoyed at seeing Gringoire again that she constantly made him stumble by affectionately putting her horns between his legs. 'That's life,' said the philosopher, each time he narrowly escaped falling flat on his face. 'It's often our best friends who cause our downfall.'
A man who wants to die feels angry and full of life and desperate and bored and exhausted, all at the same time; he wants to fight everyone, and he wants to curl up in a ball and hide in a cupboard somewhere. He wants to say sorry to everyone, and he wants everyone to know just how badly they've all let him down.
Memory, I realize, can be an unreliable thing; often it is heavily coloured by the circumstances in which one remembers, and no doubt this applies to certain of the recollections I have gathered here.
We took away your art because we thought it would reveal your souls. Or to put it more finely, we did it to prove you had souls at all.
'What do you think dignity's all about?' The directness of the inquiry did, I admit, take me rather by surprise. 'It's rather a hard thing to explain in a few words, sir,' I said. 'But I suspect it comes down to not removing one's clothing in public.'
Jerome, Jerome K. - Three Men in a Boat
It always does seem to me that I am doing more work than I should do. It is not that I object to the work, mind you; I like work: it fascinates me. I can sit and look at it for hours. I love to keep it by me: the idea of getting rid of it nearly breaks my heart.
Kafka, Franz - In the Penal Colony
Many questions were troubling the explorer, but at the sight of the prisoner he asked only: 'Does he know his sentence?' 'No,' said the officer, eager to go on with his exposition, but the explorer interrupted him: 'He doesn't know the sentence that has been passed on him?' 'No,' said the officer again, pausing a moment as if to let the explorer elaborate his question, and then said: 'There would be no point in telling him. He'll learn it on his body.'
Krauss, Lawrence M. - A Universe From Nothing
The amazing thing is that every atom in your body came from a star that exploded. And, the atoms in your left hand probably came from different stars than your right hand. It really is the most poetic thing I know about physics: You are all stardust. You couldn't be here if stars hadn't exploded, because the elements - the carbon, nitrogen, oxygen, iron, all the things that matter for evolution - weren't created at the beginning of time. They were created in the nuclear furnaces of stars, and the only way they could get into your body is if those stars were kind enough to explode. So, forget Jesus. The stars died so that you could be here today.
Misha had appeared chez Viktor a year before, when the zoo was giving hungry animals away to anyone able to feed them. Viktor had gone along and returned with a king penguin. Abandoned by his girlfriend the week before, he had been feeling lonely. But Misha had brought his own kind of loneliness, and the result was now two complementary lonelinesses, creating an impression more of inderdependence than of amity.
Loe, Erlend - Stille Dager i Mixing Part
Ok. Hørte dere det, unger? Ingen linje fra Ludwig II til nasjonalsosialismen. Ifølge moren deres. Hvem vil ha is?
…As if this weren't impressive enough, the Minister then proceeded, using the outside edge of her right shoe's toe once more, to re-do the sequence in reverse. It took the best part of another hour; but she managed it as well. As soon as she'd returned the buckle to it's starting position, its original state, she called the meeting to a close. I found the whole experience of observing this small episode, this drama that (due to the shape of the table, its supporting legs, the layout of our chairs and similar factors) I alone could see, deeply satisfying. How do you think it went? Peyman asked me after we had left. Oh, I answered: excellently.
Mills, David - Atheist Universe
This so-called 'First Cause' argument, however, is a textbook illustration of ad hoc reasoning. For if 'everything needs a cause to account for its existence,' then we are forced to adress the question of who or what created God? If God always existed, and therefore needs no causal explanation, then the original premise of the cosmological argument - the everything needs a cause - has been shown to be erroneous: something can exist without a cause. If everything except God requires a cause, then the 'First Cause' argument becomes ad hoc (i.e., inconsistent and prejudicially applied) and is thus logically impermissible. If we can suppose that God always existed - and thus requires no causal explanation - then we can suppose instead that the mass-energy comprising our universe always existed and thus require no causal explanation.
What is truly strange is that I, who spared not only innocent lives but several guilty ones as well (for at certain moments I was overcome by a kind of indifference, and the prisoners reaped the benefits), was hated even more than some of my comrades … I think the prisoners condemned to death vaguely consoled themselves with the idea that they were dealing with madmen or monsters; whereas I was an ordinary, sad little man who coughed, wore glasses, had a little snub nose and delicate hands.
The sea, however, doesn't care. No matter what they do to try and impress or repel its advances, it lurches forward and eases back with comic consistency, as if it is playing a game of chicken with those who live inland; a show of power that one day, if they look like they have forgotten to flinch, it might not retreat as soon as it should.
Rowling, J.K. - Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince
'Do you remember me telling you we are practicing non-verbal spells, Potter?' 'Yes,' said Harry stiffly. 'Yes, sir.' 'There's no need to call me sir Professor.' The words had escaped him before he knew what he was saying.
Rowling, J.K. - Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban
Mr. Moony presents his compliments to Professor Snape, and begs him to keep his abnormally large nose out of other people's business. Mr. Prongs agrees with Mr. Moony, and would like to add that Professor Snape is an ugly git. Mr. Padfoot would like to register his astonishment that an idiot like that ever became a professor. Mr. Wormtail bids Professor Snape good day, and advises him to wash his hair, the slimeball.
The different accidents of life are not so changeable as the feelings of human nature. I had worked hard for nearly two years, for the sole purpose of infusing life into an inanimate body. For this I had deprived myself of rest and health. I had desired it with an ardour that far exceeded moderation; but now that I had finished, the beauty of the dream vanished, and breathless horror and disgust filled my heart.
Tartt, Donna - The Secret History
'But how,' said Charles, who was close to tears, 'how can you possibly justify cold-blooded murder?' Henry lit a cigarette. 'I prefer to think of it,' he said, 'as redistribution of matter.'
Now when Túrin learnt from Finduilas of what had passed, he was wrathful, and he said to Gwindor: 'In love I hold you for your rescue and safe-keeping. But now you have done ill to me, friend, to betray my right name, and call my doom upon me, from which I would lay hid.' But Gwindor answered: 'The doom lies in yourself, not in your name.'
Tolkien, J.R.R. - The Hobbit
'Do you wish me a good morning, or mean that the morning is a good morning whether I want it or not; or that you feel good this morning; or that it is a morning to be good on?'
Tolkien, J.R.R. - The Lord of the Rings
'The enemy? His sense of duty was no less than yours, I deem. You wonder what his name is, where he came from. And if he was really evil at heart. What lies or threats led him on his long march from home. If he would not rather have stayed there in peace. War will make corpses of us all.'
If there was a reason for his preferring liberal to conservative views, which were held also by many of his circle, it arose not from his considering liberalism more rational, but from its being in closer accordance with his manner of life. The liberal party said that in Russia everything is wrong, and certainly Stepan Arkadyevitch had many debts and was decidedly short of money. The liberal party said that marriage is an institution quite out of date, and that it needs reconstruction; and family life certainly afforded Stepan Arkadyevitch little gratification, and forced him into lying and hypocrisy, which was so repulsive to his nature. The liberal party said, or rather allowed it to be understood, that religion is only a curb to keep in check the barbarous classes of the people; and Stepan Arkadyevitch could not get through even a short service without his legs aching from standing up, and could never make out what was the object of all the terrible and high-flown language about another world when life might be so very amusing in this world. And with all this, Stepan Arkadyevitch, who liked a joke, was fond of puzzling a plain man by saying that if he prided himself on his origin, he ought not to stop at Rurik and disown the first founder of his family--the monkey. And so Liberalism had become a habit of Stepan Arkadyevitch's, and he liked his newspaper, as he did his cigar after dinner, for the slight fog it diffused in his brain.
Lille jøde, far vel, far vel, Moses og Isak venter deg vel? Lille jøde, vær ei så sturen, til ild og svovel går helvetesturen. Kom aldri tilbake lille jøde, her ønsker vi bare å se dere døde.
Jeg Sinuhe, sønn av Senmut og hans hustru Kipa, skriver dette. Ikke for å prise gudene i landet Kem, for jeg er trett av guder. Ikke for å prise faraoer, for jeg er trett av deres bedrifter. Bare for min egen skyld skriver jeg dette. Ikke for å smigre guder, ikke for å smigre konger, ikke av frykt, og ikke i tro på fremtiden. For i mine levedager har jeg gjennomgått og tapt så meget at jeg ikke plages av ørkesløs frykt, og jeg vemmes ved tanken på guder og konger. Jeg skriver dette bare for min egen skyld, og i dette tror jeg jeg skiller meg fra alle skrivere, det være seg i fortid som i fremtid.
Despite the efforts of the Tourist Board, Ireland, in those days were not in Top Ten Countries to Visit, and for English people it was all but verboten as the Pope would say. Ireland? Catholics and murderers, the Reverend would have thought. Ungrateful blackguards, we had not the slightest appreciation for the eight hundred years of civilized rule of His Majesty and to show our true colours once the English had departed we'd set about killing each other with hatchets, slash hooks and hedge shears. Ireland? Better that Abraham was in Hell.
Willis, Connie - Doomsday Book
I wanted to come, and if I hadn't, they would have been all alone, and nobody would have ever known how frightened and brave and irreplaceable they were.
Because around a crisis point, even the tiniest action can assume importance all out of proportion to its size. Consequences multiply and cascade, and anything - a missed telephone call, a match struck during a blackout, a dropped piece of paper, a single moment - can have empire-tottering effects. The Archduke Ferdinand's chauffeur makes a wrong turn onto Franz-Josef Street and starts a world war. Abraham Lincoln's bodyguard steps outside for a smoke and destroys a peace. Hitler leaves orders not to be disturbed because he has a migraine and finds out about the D-Day invasion eighteen hours too late. A lieutenant fails to mark a telegram 'urgent' and Admiral Kimmel isn't warned of the impending Japanese attack. 'For want of a nail, the shoe was lost. For want of a shoe, the horse was lost. For want of a horse, the rider was lost.'
…I am happy to welcome you to a town peopled by morons exclusively. Furthermore, I hope that your transformation to moron is not an unpleasant experience.
That was what struck Sam immediately about Galahad Threepwood, that he looked extraordinarily fit for his years. It was the impression Gally made on everyone who met him. After the life he had led he had no right to burst with health, but he did. Where most of his contemporaries had long ago thrown in the towel and retired to cure resorts to nurse their gout, he had gone blithely on, ever rising on stepping stones of dead whiskies and sodas to higher things. He had discovered the prime grand secret of eternal youth - to keep the decanted circulating, to stop smoking only when snapping the lighter for his next cigarette and never to retire to rest before three in the morning.
He was feeling as he had not felt since the evening some years ago when, boxing for his University in the light-weight division, he had incautiously placed the point of his jaw in the exact spot at the moment occupied by his opponent's right fist. When you have done this or - equally - when you have just been told that the girl you love is definitely betrothed to another, you begin to understand how Anarchists must feel when the bomb goes off too soon.
…All ethics or morals are culturally relative. And Esme's reaction taught me that while cultural relativism is an easy concept to process intellectually, it is not, for many, an easy one to remember.
Age makes you notice certain things. For example, I now know that a man's life is broadly divided into three periods. During the first, it doesn't even occur to us that one day we will grow old, we don't think that time passes or that from the day we are born we're all walking toward a common end. After the first years of youth comes the second period, in which a person becomes aware of the fragility of life and what begins like a simple niggling doubt rises inside you like a flood of uncertainties that will stay with you for the rest of your days. Finally, toward the end of life, the period of acceptance begins, and, consequently, of resignation, a time of waiting.
Now that he was certain he was in their way, being with them became a cruelly complex pleasure. He gloated over the idea of disrupting their plans, bringing all the concentrated force of his hostility to bear on them at last.
- a human being, an intellectual human being who constantly bends the entire force of his mind on the ridiculous task of forcing a wooden king into the corner of a wooden board, and does it without going mad!
