The collector

(After John Fowles)

(In the centre of the novel The Collector is Frederick Clegg, a lonely young man who collects butterflies: catches them, breeds them, pins them in display cases. He admires their beauty in private. It is his only interest, until he wins £ 73,000. Then he captures a more exciting specimen to add to his collection — a beautiful young woman. The novel is a duel between primitive, nasty and aggressive Frederick and emotionally rich, clever and beautiful Miranda. Once Frederick captured Miranda by force and locked her in his house.)

When she was home from her boarding-school I used to see her almost every day, because their house was just opposite the Town Hall. She and her younger sister used to go in and out a lot, often with young men, which of course I didn't like.

When I had a free moment I stood by the window and looked over the road and sometimes I could see her. In the evening I marked it in my observation diary, at first with X, and then when I knew her name — with M. I saw her several times outside too. She didn't look once at me, but I watched the back of her head and her hair in a long pigtail. Sometimes she wore her hair up. Only once, before she came to be my guest here, I had the privilege to see her with her hair loose, and it took my breath away, it was so beautiful, like a mermaid.

John Fowles won international recognition with his first published novel The Collector («Колекціонер»), 1963. He was immediately rec­ognized as an outstanding innovative writer of exceptional imaginative power and his reputation was confirmed with the appearance of his next works The Magus («Mar»), The French Lieutenant's Woman («Жінка, французького лейтенанта»), The Ebony Tower («Башта з чорного дерева») and a number of short stories, among which Eliduc («Елідюк») and The Enigma («Загадка») are the most famous. John Fowles lives and writes in Dorset, South England.

Додаток № 23

Cat in the rain

(Cat in the Rain is one of the best Hemingway's stories, written in the 1920s and describing the "lost generation"— people whose lives were ruined by World War I. Those young people couldn't find place for themselves in the post-war world, they had no hope, no purpose, no ideal and no home. The two Americans in the story are as unhappy and uncomfortable as a cat in the rain.)

…The American wife stood at the window looking out. Outside right under their window a cat was sitting under one of the dripping green tables. The cat was trying to make herself so compact that she would not be dripped on.

"I’m going down and get that kitty," the American wife said.

"I'll do it," her husband offered from the bed.

"No, I'll get it. The poor kitty out is trying to keep dry under a table."

The husband went on reading. "Don't get wet," he said.

The wife went downstairs and the hotel-owner stood up and bowed to her as she passed the office. His desk was at the far end of the office. He was an old man and very tall.

"It rains," the wife said in Italian. She liked the hotel-owner.

"Si, si, Signora.² It's very bad weather." He stood behind his desk in the far end of the dim room. The wife liked him. She liked the serious way he received any complaints. She liked his dignity. She liked the way he wanted to serve her. She liked his old, heavy face and big hands.

She opened the door and looked out. It was raining harder. The cat would be around to the right. Perhaps she could go along under the eaves. As she stood in the doorway an umbrella opened behind her. It was the maid who looked after their room. "You must not get wet," she smiled, speaking Italian. Of course, the hotel-owner had sent her. With the maid holding the umbrella over her, she walked along the gravel path until she was under their window. The table was there, but the cat was gone. She was suddenly disappointed. The maid looked up at her.

"Have you lost anything, Signora?"

"There was a cat," said the American girl.

"A cat?" the maid smiled. "A cat in the rain?"

"Yes," the woman said, "under the table. Oh, I wanted it so much. I wanted a kitty."

Додаток № 24

Julia's husband Michael Gosselyn wanted to discuss with her the future of their son Roger. Michael was afraid that Roger did not want anything definite and that after some time he would become a small clerk or even go on the stage. Thinking that Julia had more tact than he, and more influence with the boy, he asked her to put before Roger the advantages of the Foreign Office and the brilliant possibilities of the Bar¹. Julia was sure that in the course of two or three hours' conversation she could find a way to lead to this important topic. At dinner she asked Roger many questions about his holidays in Austria. But he was reticent.² Julia felt a little hurt, but his smile was very sweet. However, Julia wondered how it was that he inherited so little of Michael's beauty and her charm. Heaven only knew where with such a father and such a mother he had got his rather lumpy figure³. He was eighteen now; he seemed a little apathetic, — probably he had no sense of humour. At the end of the dinner she understood that she had been talking about herself and her own interests all the time. Could Roger guide the conversation in this direction? No, he wasn't intelligent enough for that. Later, when they were sitting in the drawing-room, listening to the radio and smoking, Julia found the chance to ask him the question she had prepared.

"Have you made up your mind what you're going to be yet?"

"No. Is there any hurry?"

"Well, your father says that if you're going to be a barrister⁴ you ought to work at law when you go to Cambridge. On the other hand, if you choose the Foreign Office you should learn modern languages."

He looked at her for so long, that Julia felt uneasy.

¹ the advantages of the Foreign Office and the brilliant possibilities of the Bar — переваги служби в Міністерстві закордонних справ і блискучі перспективи адвокатської кар'єри

² But he was reticent. — Але він відповідав скупо і неохоче.

³ lumpy figure — незграбна фігура

⁴ a barrister — юрист, адвокат

Додаток № 25