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Pan by Knut Hamsun
These last few days I have been thinking and thinking of the Nordland summer, with its endless day. Sitting here thinking of that, and of a hut I lived in, and of the woods behind the hut. And writing things down, by way of passing the time; to amuse myself, no more. The time goes very slowly; I cannot get it to pass as quickly as I would, though I have nothing to sorrow for, and live as pleasantly as could be. I am well content withal, and my thirty years are no age to speak of.
A few days back someone sent me two feathers. Two bird's feathers in a sheet of note-paper with a coronet, and fastened with a seal. Sent from a place a long way off; from one who need not have sent them back at all. That amused me too, those devilish green feathers.
And for the rest I have no troubles, unless for a touch of gout now and again in my left foot, from an old bullet-wound, healed long since.
Two years ago, I remember, the time passed quickly-beyond all comparison more quickly than time now. A summer was gone before I knew. Two years ago it was, in 1855. I will write of it just to amuse myself-of something that happened to me, or something I dreamed. Now, I have forgotten many things belonging to that time, by having scarcely thought of them since. But I remember that the nights were very light. And many things seemed curious and unnatural. Twelve months to the year-but night was like day, and never a star to be seen in the sky. And the people I met were strange, and of a different nature from those I had known before; sometimes a single night was enough to make them blossom out from childhood into the full of their glory, ripe and fully grown. No witchery in this; only I had never seen the like before. No.
In a white, roomy home down by the sea I met with one who busied my thoughts for a little time. I do not always think of her now; not any more. No; I have forgotten her. But I think of all the other things: the cry of the sea-birds, my hunting in the woods, my nights, and all the warm hours of that summer. After all, it was only by the merest accident I happened to meet her; save for that, she would never have been in my thoughts for a day.
From the hut where I lived, I could see a confusion of rocks and reefs and islets, and a little of the sea, and a bluish mountain peak or so; behind the hut was the forest. A huge forest it was; and I was glad and grateful beyond measure for the scent of roots and leaves, the thick smell of the fir-sap, that is like the smell of marrow. Only the forest could bring all things to calm within me; my mind was strong and at ease. Day after day I tramped over the wooded hills with ?sop at my side, and asked no more than leave to keep on going there day after day, though most of the ground was covered still with snow and soft slush. I had no company but ?sop; now it is Cora, but at that time it was ?sop, my dog that I afterwards shot.
Often in the evening, when I came back to the hut after being out shooting all day, I could feel that kindly, homely feeling trickling through me from head to foot-a pleasant little inward shivering. And I would talk to ?sop about it, saying how comfortable we were. "There, now we'll get a fire going, and roast a bird on the hearth," I would say; "what do you say to that?" And when it was done, and we had both fed, ?sop would slip away to his place behind the hearth, while I lit a pipe and lay down on the bench for a while, listening to the dead soughing of the trees. There was a slight breeze bearing down towards the hut, and I could hear quite clearly the clutter of a grouse far away on the ridge behind. Save for that, all was still.
And many a time I fell asleep there as I lay, just as I was, fully dressed and all, and did not wake till the seabirds began calling. And then, looking out of the window, I could see the big white buildings of the trading station, the landing stage at Girilund, the store where I used to get my bread. And I would lie there a while, wondering how I came to be there, in a hut on the fringe of a forest, away up in Nordland.
Then ?sop over by the hearth would shake out his long, slender body, rattling his collar, and yawning and wagging his tail, and I would jump up, after those three or four hours of sleep, fully rested and full of joy in everything ... everything.
Many a night passed just that way.
* * *
The Wanderer, which consists of two closely related novels, Under the Autumn Star and On Muted Strings, has been acclaimed as one of Knut Hamsun's finest works. The narrator, Knut Pedersen (Hamsun's real name), is an unsimple character in search of the simple life, which he hopes to attain by wandering round the Norwegian countryside doing such work as he can find. His quest is continually frustrated, not least by his susceptibility to the wives and daughters of successive employers. In Under the Autumn Star he joins forces first with Grindhusen, a man blessed with the faith that "something will turn up"; later with Lars Falkenberg, whose dubious talents include the tuning of pianos. Knut and Lars end up as workmen on the estate of a certain Captain Falkenberg (no relation), with whose wife each falls in love. In due course, Knut is laid off and, in futile pursuit of the woman with whom by now he is helplessly infatuated, eventually finds himself sucked back into the city he once fled. "A wanderer plays on muted strings," explains Knut, now six years older, "when he reaches the age of two score years and ten." Among this sequel's qualities is the poignancy with which it conveys that sense of aging. Both novels show Hamsun at the height of his powers: lyrical and passionate, ironic yet deeply humane, master of one of the most original prose styles in modern literature, brilliantly translated here by Oliver and Gunnvor Stallybrass.
Trajectory presents classics of world literature with 21st century features! Our original-text editions include the following visual enhancements to foster a deeper understanding of the work: Word Clouds at the start of each chapter highlight important words. Word, sentence, paragraph counts, and reading time help readers and teachers determine chapter complexity. Co-occurrence graphs depict character-to-character interactions as well character to place interactions. Sentiment indexes identify positive and negative trends in mood within each chapter. Frequency graphs help display the impact this book has had on popular culture since its original date of publication. Use Trajectory analytics to deepen comprehension, to provide a focus for discussions and writing assignments, and to engage new readers with some of the greatest stories ever told."The Moving Picture Girls: Or, First Appearances in Photo Dramas" is part of "The Moving Picture Girls" series. "The Moving Picture Girls" is a series about the adventures of Ruth and Alice DeVere who live with their father who is an actor.
In the previous life, Maggie Johnson was so cowardly, gullible and stupid that she was coaxed by her fiance and stepsister and then broke her legs and lost everything including her fortune, love and even life. However, she was so lucky that she was reborn in the year before everything happened. Since her life restarted, how could she repeat a previous tragedy? Therefore, in this life, she took the opportunity to improve herself and take revenge on the ones who had ever insulted her. Facing the people who had humiliated her previously, she became smart and experienced to break their frames and tricks that had caused her to hurt in the previous life. Finally, no one could stop her pace to amaze the world any more.
"Ahh!" She was in a moaning mess. She did not want to feel anything for this man. She hated him. His hands began to move all over her body. She gasped when he pulled down the back chain of her dress. The chain stopped at her lower waist, so when he zipped it off, her upper back and waist were exposed. "D-Don't touch m-ummm!" His fingers rolled around her bare back, and she pressed her head against the pillow. His touches were giving her goosebumps all over her body. With a deep angry voice, he whispered in her ear, "I am going to make you forget his touches, kisses, and everything. Every time you touch another man, you will only think of me." - - - Ava Adler was a nerdy omega. People bullied her because they thought she was ugly and unattractive. But Ava secretly loved the bad boy, Ian Dawson. He was the future Alpha of the Mystic Shadow Pack. However, he doesn't give a damn about rules and laws, as he only likes to play around with girls. Ava was unaware of Ian's arrogance until her fate intertwined with his. He neglected her and hurt her deeply. What would happen when Ava turned out to be a beautiful girl who could win over any boy, and Ian looked back and regretted his decisions? What if she had a secret identity that she had yet to discover? What if the tables turned and Ian begged her not to leave him?
Two years ago, Ricky found himself coerced into marrying Emma to protect the woman he cherished. From Ricky's perspective, Emma was despicable, resorting to underhanded schemes to ensure their marriage. He maintained a distant and cold attitude toward her, reserving his warmth for another. Yet, Emma remained wholeheartedly dedicated to Ricky for more than ten years. As she grew weary and considered relinquishing her efforts, Ricky was seized by a sudden fear. Only when Emma's life teetered on the edge, pregnant with Ricky's child, did he recognize-the love of his life had always been Emma.
They don't know I'm a girl. They all look at me and see a boy. A prince. Their kind purchase humans like me for their lustful desires. And, when they stormed into our kingdom to buy my sister, I intervened to protect her. I made them take me too. The plan was to escape with my sister whenever we found a chance. How was I to know our prison would be the most fortified place in their kingdom? I was supposed to be on the sidelines. The one they had no real use for. The one they never meant to buy. But then, the most important person in their savage land-their ruthless beast king-took an interest in the "pretty little prince." How do we survive in this brutal kingdom, where everyone hates our kind and shows us no mercy? And how does someone, with a secret like mine, become a lust slave? . AUTHOR'S NOTE. This is a dark romance-dark, mature content. Highly rated 18+ Expect triggers, expect hardcore. If you're a seasoned reader of this genre, looking for something different, prepared to go in blindly not knowing what to expect at every turn, but eager to know more anyway, then dive in! . From the author of the international bestselling book: "The Alpha King's Hated Slave."
Allison fell in love with Ethan Iversen, the soon-to-be Alpha of the Moonlight Crown pack. She always wanted him to notice her. Meanwhile, Ethan was an arrogant Alpha who thought a weak Omega could not be his companion. Ethan's cousin, Ryan Iversen, who came back from abroad and was the actual heir of the pack, never tried to get the position nor did he show any interest in it. He was a popular playboy Alpha but when he came back to the pack, one thing captured his eyes and that was Allison.
After three loveless years, Neil's betrayal deeply wounded Katelyn. She wasted no time in getting rid of that scoundrel! After the divorce, she devoted herself to career pursuits. Rising to prominence as a top designer, skilled doctor, and brilliant hacker, she became a revered icon. Neil, realizing his grave mistake, tried in vain to win her back, only to witness her magnificent wedding to another. As their vows were broadcast on the world's largest billboard, Vincent slid a ring onto Katelyn's finger and declared, "Katelyn is now my wife, a priceless treasure. Let all who covet her beware!"