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- Pridružio: 17 Jul 2005
- Poruke: 3097
- Gde živiš: "Daleko od Negdje"
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By Isabel Allende
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"Because the bridegroom could afford to pay, marriage between Zulema and Riad Halabí was celebrated with full rituals. It was a memorable event in that poor village where real festivities had been almost forgotten. Perhaps the only bad omen was that at the beginning of the week the khamsin blew from the desert and send invaded everything: it filtered into houses, abraded clothing, (zabranjeno)ed skin, and by the day of the actual marriage, the bride and groom had send in their eyelashes. But that detail did not hinder the celebration. The first day of the ceremony, women friends and family members gathered to inspect the bride’s trousseau, all orange blossoms and pink ribbons, while enjoying eggfruit, “gazelle horns,” almonds, and pistachios, and ululating with happiness, a sustained yuyuyu that spread through the streets to the café where the man were had congregated. The following day, Zulema was led to the public bath in a procession headed by an elder beating a bottle-shaped tambourine to warn the man to look away during the passing of the bride, who was clothed in seven gauzy robes. When her clothing was removed in the bath, so that the parents of Riad Halabí could see that she was well nourished and had no flaws, her mother broke into tears, following tradition. Zulema’s hands were stained with henna, all her body hair was removed with wax and sulfur; she was massaged with cream; her hair was braided with imitations pearls, and everyone sang and danced and ate sweets and drank mint tea – with the louis d’or the bride gave to each of her friends never far from their minds. The third day was the ceremony of the neftah. Zulema’s grandmother touched her forehead with a key to open her mind to frankness and affection, and then her mother and Riad Halabí’s father placed her feet in slippers anointed with honey, so that she enter married life along a path of sweetness. The fourth day, dressed in a simple tunic, she welcomed her in-laws, honoring them with dishes prepared by her own hands; she lowered her eyes demurely when they said that the meat was tough and the couscous lacked salt, but that the bride was pretty. The fifth day, they tasted Zoulema’s dependability by bringing to her three troubadours who sang suggestive songs; she maintained a stony indifference behind her veil, and each obscenity that bounced against her virginal face was rewarded with a coin. Meanwhile the man’s feast was being celebrated in another room, where Riad Halabí was the brunt of all jokes. The sixth day, they were married in the office of the alcadia, the town hall, and the seventh, they received the cadi, the local magistrate. The guests placed their presents at the feet of the newly married couple, shouting the price they had paid; the father and mother drank the last cup of chicken broth with Zulema, and then delivered her to her husband, unwillingly, as they were supposed to do. The women of the family led her to a chamber prepared for the occasion and changed her bridal gown for a shift, then joined the man in the street, waiting for the bloodstained sheet of purity to be displayed at the window.
At least Riad Halabí was alone with his wife. They had never seen each other except from a distance, or exchanged words or smiles. Custom demanded that she be frightened and trembling, but it was he who felt that way. As long as he had kept a prudent distance and not opened his mouth, his defect was not terribly noticeable, but he did not know how it would affect his wife at more intimate moment. Apprehensive, he walked toward her and reached out to touch her, attracted by the nacreous glow of her skin, the abundance of her flash, the shadows of her hair, but when he saw the expression of revulsion in her eyes, the gesture was frozen in midair. He took out his handkerchief and out it to his face, holding it there with one hand while with the other he undressed and caressed her, but his patience and tenderness were not enough to overcome Zulema’s rejection. The encounter was wretched for both of them. Later, as his mother-in-law flourished the sheet from the balcony – painted blue to fend off evil spirits – and below, neighbors shot off rifles and the women ululated deliriously, Riad Halabí hid in a corner. His humiliation was like a fist in his belly. He was never rod of the silent moan of that sorrow, and he never spoke of it until the day he told it to the first person who kissed him on the lips. He had been educated in the rules of silence: it is forbidden for a man to demonstrate his feelings or secret desires. His position as husband had made him Zulema’s master; it was not proper that she should know his weakness, because she might use them to wound or dominate him."
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Samo kratki odlomak iz knjige koja je sposobna da odvede covjeka u potpuno novi svijet. Sposobnost spisateljicinog pricanja je stvarno fenomenalna. U knjizi se preplice nekoliko prica koje se lagano vezu jedna za drugu. U svakom slucaju, sarolikost price je za pohvaliti. Nisam se pokajala sto sam je procitala. Ne smatram da je vrijeme utroseno za badava.
http://www.deviantart.com/deviation/29171691/
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