habitudo: (Default)
[personal profile] habitudo
От був собі такий Томас Харді, чудовий британський романіст пізнього вікторіанства.
Як виходець з англійського села, живописав, в основному, англійське село і тугу за тим селом виходців з оного, але з елементами жваво модерністичними.

Мова в нього приємна і багата, діалектизмами не надто зловживав, але є дуже цікаве слівце, яке він вліпачив принаймні в три свої романи:
Tess of the d'Urbervilles: 'Mr.Clare,' said the dairyman emphatically, 'is one of the most rebellest rozums you ever knowned'
Return of the native: "he'd throw down the clarinet, mount the gallery, snatch up the bass-viol, and rozum away as if he'd never played anything but a bass-viol"
Woodlanders: Well, no. How can he be clever?.. And yet he's a projick, a real projick, and says the oddest of rozums. 'Ah, Grammer,' he said, at another time, 'let me tell you that Everything is Nothing. There's only Me and not Me in the whole world.' And he told me that no man's hands could help what they did, any more than the hands of a clock....Yes, he's a man of strange meditations, and his eyes seem to see as far as the north star"
Характерно, що в усіх цих випадках контекст натякає на близькість до нашого значення! 
Я заінтригована.
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