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“…the country breathed a timeless life…”

The opening paragraphs of Isak Dinesen's short story "Sorrow-Acre" (from Winter's Tales):

The low, undulating Danish landscape was silent and serene, mysteriously wide-awake, in the hour before sunrise. There was not a cloud in the pale sky, not a shadow along the dim, pearly fields, hills and woods. The mist was lifting from the valleys and hollows, the air was cool, the grass and the foliage dripping wet with the morning dew. Unwatched by the eyes of man, and undisturbed by his activity, the country breathed a timeless life, to which language was inadequate.

All the same a human race had lived on this land for a thousand years, had been formed by it soil and weathers, and had marked it with its thoughts, so that now no one could tell where the existence of the one ceased and that of the other began. The thin grey line of a road, winding across the plain and up and down hills, was the fixed materialization of human longing, and of the human notion that it were better to in one place than another.

Lovely beginning, but unfortunately Dinesen goes on like this for more than two pages, taking forever to narrow the focus and actually start telling the story. And I'm not expecting the story itself to move much more quickly than this.

October 1, 2018 in Books | Permalink

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