Pat Barker - Regeneration

Здесь есть возможность читать онлайн «Pat Barker - Regeneration» 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. Год выпуска: 2008, Издательство: Viking, Жанр: Историческая проза, на английском языке. Описание произведения, (предисловие) а так же отзывы посетителей доступны на портале библиотеки ЛибКат.

Regeneration: краткое содержание, описание и аннотация

Предлагаем к чтению аннотацию, описание, краткое содержание или предисловие (зависит от того, что написал сам автор книги «Regeneration»). Если вы не нашли необходимую информацию о книге — напишите в комментариях, мы постараемся отыскать её.

Regeneration by Pat Barker is a classic exploration of how the traumas of war brutalised a generation of young — published as a Penguin Essential for the first time. 'I just don't think our war aims — whatever they may be — and we don't know — justify this level of slaughter.' The poets and soldiers Siegfried Sassoon and Wilfred Owen are dispatched to Craiglockhart War Hospital in Scotland in 1917. There, army psychiatrist William Rivers is treating brutalised, shell-shocked men. It is Rivers' job to fix these men and make them ready to fight again. As a witness to the traumas they have endured, can he in all conscience send them back to the horrors of the trenches?

Regeneration — 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 «Regeneration», 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

‘Perfectly, thank you,’ said Willard.

Rivers went into the hall, smiling, only to have the smile wiped off his face by the sight of Matron standing immediately inside the entrance. She’d observed the entire incident and evidently disapproved. ‘You could have sent an orderly down to push the chair, Captain Rivers.’

Rivers opened his mouth, and shut it again. He reminded himself, not for the first time, that it was absolutely necessary for Matron to win some of their battles.

11

Sassoon was trying to decipher a letter from H. G. Wells when Owen knocked on his door.

‘As far as I can make out, he says he’s coming to see Rivers.’

Owen looked suitably impressed. ‘He must be really worried about you.’

‘Oh, it’s not me he wants to talk about, it’s his new book.’ Sassoon smiled. ‘You don’t know many writers, do you?’

‘Not many.’

And I, Sassoon thought, am showing off. Which at least was better than moaning about Gordon’s death to somebody who had more than enough problems of his own. ‘I don’t suppose he’ll come. They all talk about it, but in the end it’s just too far. I sometimes wonder whether that’s why they put me here. Whether it was a case of being sent to Rivers or just sent as far away as possible.’

‘Probably Rivers. He gets all the awkward ones.’ Owen stopped in some confusion. ‘Not that you’re —’

‘Oh, I think I count as awkward. By any standard.’ He handed a sheet of paper across. ‘For the Hydra .’

‘May I read it?’

‘That’s the general idea.’

Owen read, folded the paper and nodded.

To forestall possible effusions, Sassoon said quickly, ‘I’m not satisfied with the last three lines, but they’ll have to do.’

‘I tried yesterday, but you were out.’

‘I’d be with Rivers.’ He smiled. ‘Do you ever feel like strangling Brock?’

‘No, I get on rather well with him.’

‘I get on with Rivers. It’s just… He picked up something I said at lunchtime about not being able to imagine the future. He doesn’t often press, but my God when he does…’

‘Why did he want you to talk about that?’

‘Part of the great campaign to get me back to France. He wants me to put the protest in a longer perspective. You know, “What did you do in the Great War, Siegfried?” Well, I spent three very comfortable years in a loony-bin eating steamed pudding and playing golf. While other people — some of them rather close friends — got blown to smithereens. He wants me to admit I won’t be able to bear it. What’s more, he’s probably right.’

‘Think of the poems you could write.’

‘Not war poems.’

Owen’s expression darkened. ‘There are other subjects.’

‘Yes, of course.’

A slightly awkward pause. ‘The trouble is he just knows more than I do. You know, he’s very good… He tries to behave as if we’re equal. But in the end he’s a Gold Medallist of the Royal Society, and I left Cambridge without taking a degree. And now and again it shows.’

‘That doesn’t mean he’s right.’

‘No, but it does make it very difficult for me to keep my end up in a discussion.’

‘Did you talk about after the war?’

‘No. I can’t, I’ve no plans. Do you know what you’re going to do?’

‘I’m going to keep pigs.’

Pigs?

‘Yes. People think pigs are dirty, you know, but they’re not. They’re very clean animals, given half the chance. And it would combine so well with poetry, you see. Actually much better than teaching, because if you’re teaching properly you’re using the same part of your mind. But pig-keeping…’

‘Perhaps we should go into partnership. It’d shut Rivers up.’

Owen, belatedly aware of being laughed at, blushed and didn’t reply.

‘No, well, I don’t suppose I’d be much use with the pigs, but I may be able to help with the poems.’ He nodded at Owen’s tunic.

Owen extracted a sheaf of papers. ‘I told you they were all short but actually there is one long one. Antaeus and and Hercules.’ He handed the papers over. ‘Do you know the legend? Antaeus is too strong for Hercules as long as he keeps his feet on mother Earth. But as soon as Hercules lifts him —’

‘He’s helpless. Yes, it rings a bell.’ Sassoon started to read. After a few seconds he looked up. ‘Why don’t you get yourself a book? There’s nothing worse than being watched by the Onlie Begetter.’

‘Sorry.’ Owen got up and pretended to look at the books on Sassoon’s shelf.

At last Sassoon looked up. ‘It’s very good. Why Antaeus?’

‘Oh, it’s something Brock’s keen on. He thinks we — the patients — are like Antaeus in the sense that we’ve been ungrounded by the war. And the way back to health is to reestablish the link between oneself and the earth, but understanding “earth” to mean society as well as nature. That’s why we do surveys and things like that.’

‘I thought all the dashing around was to keep your mind off it?’

‘No, that’s part of the treatment. Ergotherapy.’

‘Well, it’s an interesting idea. Though I don’t know that being stuck in a dugout ever made me feel I was losing contact with the earth.’

Owen smiled. ‘No, nor me. It does work , though.’

Sassoon picked up the next sheet. Craning his neck, Owen could just see the title of the poem. ‘That’s in your style,’ he said.

‘Yes. I… er… noticed.

‘No good?’

‘Starts and ends well. What happened in the middle?’

‘That’s quite old, that bit. I wrote that two years ago.’

‘They do say if you leave something in a drawer long enough it’ll either rot or ripen.’

‘The bit at the end… About “dirt”. Those are the actual words.’

‘Yes, and they could do with changing. I’ve just cut: “You sod” out of a poem. Those were my actual words.’

‘So it’s no good?’

Sassoon hesitated. ‘It’s not much good at the moment . I suppose the thing is, are you interested enough to go on?’

‘Ye-es. I have to start somewhere. And I think you’re right. It’s mad not to write about the war when it’s —’

‘Such an experience.’

They looked at each other and burst out laughing.

‘My only doubt is… The the fact that you admire somebody very much doesn’t automatically mean they’re a good model. I mean, I admire Wilde, but if I started trying to be witty and elegant and incisive, I’d probably fall flat on my face.’

‘Yes, I see that. Well not that . I mean I see the point. But I do think I can take something from you.’

‘Fair enough.’ Sassoon went back to his reading. ‘I think you’re probably right,’ he said, after a while. ‘If I do nothing else, I might help you get rid of some of this mush .’

‘Some of the sonnets are quite early.’

‘Puberty?’ A long pause. Early sonnets fell like snow. ‘Oh, now this is good. “Song of Songs.”’

‘That’s last week.’

Is it? Now you see what I mean about me not being necessarily the right model? I couldn’t do this. And yet of it’s kind it’s absolutely perfect.’

Owen sat down. He looked as if his knees had buckled.

‘I think that should go in the Hydra .’

‘No.’

‘Why not?’

‘a. It’s not good enough. b. Editors shouldn’t publish their own work.’

‘a. I’m a better judge of that than you are. At the moment . b. Rubbish. And c.’ Sassoon leant across and snatched his own poem back. ‘If you don’t publish that , you can’t have this.’

Читать дальше
Тёмная тема
Сбросить

Интервал:

Закладка:

Сделать

Похожие книги на «Regeneration»

Представляем Вашему вниманию похожие книги на «Regeneration» 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 «Regeneration»

Обсуждение, отзывы о книге «Regeneration» 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