Hei, har akkurat begynt på boken. Men jeg reagerer negativt på oversettelsen der det konsekvent brukes "De" i steden for du. Blir faktisk irritert, så irritert at jeg ser etter fler "gammeldags språk" i steden for å fokusere på innehold.
Ser at du har en seinere utgave av boken, er oversettelsen der rettet opp til et mer moderne språk? Det er samme oversetter i begge bøkene.
Så mye kan jeg si: dørene åpner kl.10!
Onkel Toms hytte som jeg ser hele 400 har sin samling er ikke den originale boken.
Den originale versjonen fra 1852 har vært ute på norsk en gang tidligere. Den talte da litt over 600 sider. Med tiden har flere forlag radbrekket denne klassikeren med å kutte ned 450 sider slik at den skal nå flere lesere, samtidig har de unnlatt å si at dette ikke er den hele og fulle boken, og med det kuttet en god del viktig materiale som gjør historien helhetlig.
Men fatt mot kjære leser. Den nyoversatte versjonen av orginalmanuskriptet vil se dagens lys neste vår.
Nå har jeg oppgradert webserveren vår igjen, og fått doblet tilgjengelig minne.
La oss se om ikke dette kan hjelpe på kapasiteten igjen! :-)
I loved him, but love isn't enough. All the fairy tales, the romance novels, the soap operas; they're all lies. Love does not conquer all.
A spider brings good luck before midnight and bad luck after.
Everything comes home, my mother used to say; every word spoken, every shadow cast, every footprint in the sand. It can't be helped; it's part of what makes us who we are.
Children are knives, my mother once said. They don’t mean to, but they cut. And yet we cling to them, don’t we, we clasp them until the blood flows.
Bring it on, fur-ass!
This was an unpleasant trend. I didn’t want a lot of guys popping in and out of my bedroom. I wanted one who would stay.
I trudged back to my bedroom and pushed the door open, intending to wash my face or brush my teeth or make some stab at smoothing my hair, because I thought it might make me feel a little less trampled. Eric was sitting on my bed, his face buried in his hands. He looked up at me as I entered, and he looked shocked. Well, no wonder, what with the very thorough takeover and traumatic changing of the guard. Sitting here on your bed, smelling your scent,” he said in a voice so low I had to strain to hear it. Sookie . . . I remember everything.” Oh, hell,” I said, and went in the bathroom and shut the door. I brushed my hair and my teeth and scrubbed my face, but I had to come out. I was being as cowardly as Quinn if I didn’t face the vampire. Eric started talking the minute I emerged. “I can’t believe I—” Yeah, yeah, I know, loved a mere human, made all those promises, was as sweet as pie and wanted to stay with me forever,” I muttered. Surely there was a shortcut we could take through this scene. I can’t believe I felt something so strongly and was so happy for the first time in hundreds of years,” Eric said with some dignity. “Give me some credit for that, too.
It was beautiful Eric, who desired me, who was hungry for me, in a world that often let me know it could do very well without me.
Because he sounded so lost-the Eric I knew had never been one to do anything other than assume others should serve him-I patted around under the covers for his hand. When I found it, I slid my own over it. His palm was turned up to meet my palm, and his fingers clasped mine. And though I would not have thought it possible to go to sleep holding hands with a vampire, that's exactly what I did.
Come on," I said, taking his hand. Clutching the afghan with the other hand, he trailed down the hall after me, a snow white giant in tiny red underwear.
Food that walked and talked, that was us. McPeople.
Should I just bite you, and end it all?", he whispered. "I would never have to think about you again. Thinking about you is an annoying habit and one I want to be rid of.
Sookie, Sookie. My bullshit meter is reading that as 'false'.
Did we have sex?" he asked directly. For about two minutes, this might actually be fun. "Eric," I said, "we had sex in every position I could imagine, and some I couldn’t. We had sex in every room in my house, and we had sex outdoors. You told me it was the best you’d ever had." (At the time he couldn’t recall all the sex he’d ever had. But he’d paid me a compliment.) "Too bad you can’t remember it," I concluded with a modest smile. Eric looked like I’d hit him in the forehead with a mallet. For all of thirty seconds his reaction was completely gratifying.
This was an unpleasant trend. I didn’t want a lot of guys popping in and out of my bedroom. I wanted one who would stay.
And then there are the rare ones who know love, who understand it. Who freely give of themselves, demanding only a return of that love,that trust.