I don't know why I felt the need to add an expletive to the title. Yes, pedantic little brain man, I do know that only people who don't have the words for something swear. And in this case, you'd be right.
I have no idea how to talk about Maupassant - maybe I'm so blown away because I read it as it was written, in French (Yes, I know enough to read nineteenth century great literature in French! FISTPUNCH! I don't even know how to do a fistpunch!) or maybe just because it is extremely brilliant. Because the odd thing is, I was reading it to improve my language - and now I'm not. Now I'm reading it because it's the best thing I've read since A Tale Of Two Cities, although probably with less crying.I think the thing about him is that although his short stories are about different things, everyday things - they're also, in a strange way, brilliantly profound.
It's about kindness and cruelty - and how sometimes they're almost the same thing. Sudden bursts of human passion, love, despair, envy; and how a secret can kill you. The sudden, blind, random randomness of passion - an encounter on a bus leads to an illegitmate child; in a jealous fury a twelve year old girl murders her sister's fiancé. It's all so insane. And believeable.
I'm going to stop ranting about this now. I advise you to learn French just so you can read Le Pére De Simon.
DREAMS: Save poor Coco the horse from that brute - punch said brute in the face, and then beat him in a boxing match in style of Sherlock Holmes "The Solitary Cyclist".
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