Orson Card - Maps in a Mirror - The Short Fiction of Orson Scott Card

Здесь есть возможность читать онлайн «Orson Card - Maps in a Mirror - The Short Fiction of Orson Scott Card» весь текст электронной книги совершенно бесплатно (целиком полную версию без сокращений). В некоторых случаях можно слушать аудио, скачать через торрент в формате fb2 и присутствует краткое содержание. Город: New York, Год выпуска: 2004, ISBN: 2004, Издательство: Tom Doherty Associates, Жанр: Фантастика и фэнтези, на английском языке. Описание произведения, (предисловие) а так же отзывы посетителей доступны на портале библиотеки ЛибКат.

Maps in a Mirror: The Short Fiction of Orson Scott Card: краткое содержание, описание и аннотация

Предлагаем к чтению аннотацию, описание, краткое содержание или предисловие (зависит от того, что написал сам автор книги «Maps in a Mirror: The Short Fiction of Orson Scott Card»). Если вы не нашли необходимую информацию о книге — напишите в комментариях, мы постараемся отыскать её.

Maps in a Mirror For the hundreds of thousands who are newly come to Card, here is chance to experience the wonder of a writer so versatile that he can handle everything from traditional narrative poetry to modern experimental fiction with equal ease and grace. The brilliant story-telling of the Alvin Maker books is no accident; the breathless excitement evoked by the Ender books is not a once-in-a-lifetime experience.
In this enormous volume are forty-six stories, plus ten long, intensely personal essays, unique to this volume. In them the author reveals some of his reasons and motivations for writing, with a good deal of autobiography into the bargain.
THE SHORT FICTION OF ORSON SCOTT CARD brings together nearly all of Card’s stories, from his first publications in 1977 to work as recent as last year. For those readers who have followed this remarkable talent since the beginning, here are all those amazing stories gathered together in one place, with some extra surprises as well. For the hundreds of thousands who are newly come to Card, here is a chance to experience the wonder of a writer so talented, so versatile that he can handle everything from traditional narrative poetry to modern experimental fiction with equal ease and grace. The brilliant story-telling of the Alvin Maker books is no accident; the breathless excitement evoked by ENDER’S GAME is riot a once-in-a-lifetime experience.
In this enormous volume are 46 stories, broken into five books: Ten fables and fantasies, fairy tales that sometimes tell us truths about ourselves; eleven tales of dread—and commentary that explains why dread is a much scarier emotion than horror; seven tales of human futures—science fiction from a master of extrapolation and character; six tales of death, hope, and holiness, where Card explores the spiritual side of human nature; and twelve lost songs.
The Lost Songs are a special treat for readers of this hardcover volume, for here are gathered tales which will not see print again. Here are Card’s stories written for Mormon children, a pair that were published in small literary magazines, a thoughtful essay on the writing of fiction, and three major works which have, since their original publication, been superseded by novel-, or more than novel-length works. First, there is the original novella-length version of Card’s Hugo and Nebula Award-winning novel, ENDER’S GAME. Then there is “Mikal’s Songbird”, which was the seed of the novel SONGMASTER; “Mikal’s Songbird” will never be published again. And finally, the narrative poem “Prentice Alvin and the No-Good Plow”—here is the original inspiration for the Alvin Maker series, an idea so powerful that it could not be contained in a single story, or a hundred lines of verse, but is growing to become the most original American fantasy ever written.
MAPS IN A MIRROR is not just a collection of stories, however complete. This comprehensive collection also contains nearly a whole book’s worth of
material. Each section begins and ends with long, intensely personal introductions and afterwords; here the author reveals some of his reasons and motivations for writing what he writes—and a good deal of autobiography into the bargain.
ORSON SCOTT CARD grew up in Utah and attended Brigham Young University, where he studied drama. Card’s early writing career was devoted to plays; he had his own theater company, which was successful for a number of years. Card spent his missionary years in Brazil, learning to speak fluent Portuguese. He now lives in Greensboro, North Carolina, with his wife and three children. From book flaps:

Maps in a Mirror: The Short Fiction of Orson Scott Card — читать онлайн бесплатно полную книгу (весь текст) целиком

Ниже представлен текст книги, разбитый по страницам. Система сохранения места последней прочитанной страницы, позволяет с удобством читать онлайн бесплатно книгу «Maps in a Mirror: The Short Fiction of Orson Scott Card», без необходимости каждый раз заново искать на чём Вы остановились. Поставьте закладку, и сможете в любой момент перейти на страницу, на которой закончили чтение.

Тёмная тема
Сбросить

Интервал:

Закладка:

Сделать

But she should have known it. When the plane’s course bent, alarms should have sounded. Someone had penetrated the first line of defense. But Bill could not have done that, nor could Heather, really—they didn’t have the sophistication to break up a bubble program. Ugly-Bugly?

She knew it wasn’t faithful old Ugly-Bugly. No, not her.

The computer voluntarily flashed, “Override M577b, commandmo4, intwis Ct-TttT.” It was an apology. Someone aboard ship had found the alarm override program and the overrides for the alarm overrides. Not my fault, the computer was saying.

Elouise hesitated for a moment. She looked down at her daughter and moved a curl of red hair away from Amy’s eye. Elouise’s hand trembled. But she was a woman of ice, yes, all frozen where compassion made other women warm. She prided herself on that, on having frozen the last warm places in her—frozen so goddamn rigid that it was only a moment’s hesitation. And then she reached out and asked for the access code used to perform the treachery, asked for the name of the traitor.

The computer was even less compassionate than Elouise. It hesitated not at all.

The computer did not underline; the letters on the screen were no larger than normal. Yet Elouise felt the words as a shout, and she answered them silently with a scream.

Charles Evan Hardy, b24ag61-richlandWA.

It was Charlie who was the traitor—Charlie, her sweet, soft, hard-bodied husband, Charlie who secretly was trying to undo the end of the world.

God has destroyed the world before. Once in a flood, when Noah rode it out in the Ark. And once the tower of the world’s pride was destroyed in the confusion of tongues. The other times, if there were any other times, those times are all forgotten.

The world will probably be destroyed again, unless we repent. And don’t think you can hide from the angels. They start out as ordinary people, and you never know which ones. Suddenly God puts the power of destruction in their hands, and they destroy. And just as suddenly, when all the destruction is done, the angel leaves them, and they’re ordinary people. Just my mother and my father.

I can’t remember Father Charlie’s face. I was too young.

Mother Elouise told me often about Father Charlie. He was born far to the west in a land where water only comes to the crops in ditches, almost never from the sky. It was a land unblessed by God. Men lived there, they believed, only by the strength of their own hands. Men made their ditches and forgot about God and became scientists. Father Charlie became a scientist. He worked on tiny animals, breaking their heart of hearts and combining it in new ways. Hearts were broken too often where he worked, and one of the little animals escaped and killed people until they lay in great heaps like fish in the ship’s hold.

But this was not the destruction of the world.

Oh, they were giants in those days, and they forgot the Lord, but when their people lay in piles of moldering flesh and brittling bone, they remembered they were weak.

Mother Elouise said, “Charlie came weeping.” This is how Father Charlie became an angel. He saw what the giants had done, by thinking they were greater than God. At first he sinned in his grief. Once he cut his own throat. They put Mother Elouise’s blood in him to save his life. This is how they met: In the forest where he had gone to die privately, Father Charlie woke up from a sleep he thought would be forever to see a woman lying next to him in the tent and a doctor bending over them both. When he saw that this woman gave her blood to him whole and unstintingly, he forgot his wish to die. He loved her forever. Mother Elouise said he loved her right up to the day she killed him.

When they were finished, they had a sort of ceremony, a sort of party. “A benediction,” said Bill, solemnly sipping at the gin. “Amen and amen.”

“My shift,” Charlie said, stepping into the cockpit. Then he noticed that everyone was there and that they were drinking the last of the gin, the bottle that had been saved for the end. “Well, happy us,” Charlie said, smiling.

Bill got up from the controls of the 787. “Any preferences on where we set down?” he asked. Charlie took his place.

The others looked at one another. Ugly-Bugly shrugged. “God, who ever thought about it?”

“Come on, we’re all futurists,” Heather said. “You must know where you want to live.”

“Two thousand years from now,” Ugly-Bugly said. “I want to live in the world the way it’ll be two thousand years from now.”

“Ugly-Bugly opts for resurrection,” Bill said. “I, however, long for the bosom of Abraham.”

“Virginia,” said Elouise. They turned to face her. Heather laughed.

“Resurrection,” Bill intoned, “the bosom of Abraham, and Virginia. You have no poetry, Elouise.”

“I’ve written down the coordinates of the place where we are supposed to land,” Elouise said. She handed them to Charlie. He did not avoid her gaze. She watched him read the paper. He showed no sign of recognition. For a moment she hoped that it had all been a mistake, but no. She would not let herself be misled by her desires.

“Why Virginia?” Heather asked.

Charlie looked up. “It’s central.”

“It’s east coast,” Heather said.

“It’s central in the high survival area. There isn’t much of a living to be had in the western mountains or on the plains. It’s not so far south as to be in hunter-gatherer country and not so far north as to be unsurvivable for a high proportion of the people. Barring a hard winter.”

“All very good reasons,” Elouise said. “Fly us there, Charlie.”

Did his hands tremble as he touched the controls? Elouise watched very carefully, but he did not tremble. Indeed, he was the only one who did not. Ugly-Bugly suddenly began to cry, tears coming from her good eye and streaming down her good cheek. Thank God she doesn’t cry out of the other side, Elouise thought; then she was angry at herself, for she had thought Ugly-Bugly’s deformed face didn’t bother her anymore. Elouise was angry at herself, but it only made her cold inside, determined that there would be no failure. Her mission would be complete. No allowances made for personal cost.

Elouise suddenly started out of her contemplative mood to find that the two other women had left the cockpit—their sleep shift, though it was doubtful they would sleep. Charlie silently flew the plane, while Bill sat in the copilot’s seat, pouring himself the last drop from the bottle. He was looking at Elouise.

“Cheers,” Elouise said to him.

He smiled sadly back at her. “Amen,” he said. Then he leaned back and sang softly:

Praise God, from whom all blessings flow.
Praise him, ye creatures here below.
Praise him, who slew the wicked host.
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.

Then he reached for Elouise’s hand. She was surprised, but let him take it. He bent to her and kissed her palm tenderly. “For many have entertained angels unaware,” he said to her.

A few moments later he was asleep. Charlie and Elouise sat in silence. The plane flew on south as darkness overtook them from the east. At first their silence was almost affectionate. But as Elouise sat and sat, saying nothing, she felt the silence grow cold and terrible, and for the first time she realized that when the airplane landed, Charlie would be her—Charlie, who had been half her life for these last few years, whom she had never lied to and who had never lied to her—would be her enemy.

I have watched the little children do a dance called Charlie-El. They sing a little song to it, and if I remember the words, it goes like this:

I am made of bones and glass.
Let me pass, let me pass.
I am made of brick and steel.
Take my heel, take my heel.
I was killed just yesterday.
Kneel and pray, kneel and pray.
Dig a hole where I can sleep.
Dig it deep, dig it deep.
Will I go to heaven or hell?
Charlie-El. Charlie-El.

Читать дальше
Тёмная тема
Сбросить

Интервал:

Закладка:

Сделать

Похожие книги на «Maps in a Mirror: The Short Fiction of Orson Scott Card»

Представляем Вашему вниманию похожие книги на «Maps in a Mirror: The Short Fiction of Orson Scott Card» списком для выбора. Мы отобрали схожую по названию и смыслу литературу в надежде предоставить читателям больше вариантов отыскать новые, интересные, ещё непрочитанные произведения.


Отзывы о книге «Maps in a Mirror: The Short Fiction of Orson Scott Card»

Обсуждение, отзывы о книге «Maps in a Mirror: The Short Fiction of Orson Scott Card» и просто собственные мнения читателей. Оставьте ваши комментарии, напишите, что Вы думаете о произведении, его смысле или главных героях. Укажите что конкретно понравилось, а что нет, и почему Вы так считаете.

x