“Which tales are these... «At Swim, Two Boys»
commeavant10 марта 2014“Which tales are these now?” “Don’t ask me. The Holy Band of Thesbians.” “Of Thebes,” said MacMurrough. “The Sacred Band.” “All lovey-dovey dying together. Don’t you know he’s dippy over you? He takes anything you say at face. That’s a kid you’re telling that to. He don’t know it’s stories.” “Doyler, he’s the same age as you. Besides, I grew up on tales like that.” “Aye and you’re some example.” “What are you talking about? The entire world grows up on those stories. Only difference is, I told him the truth, that they were lovers, humping physical fellows.” Yes, and Jim had grasped instinctively that significance: that more than stories, they were patterns of the possible. And I think, how happier my boyhood should have been, had somebody—Listen, boy, listen to my tale—thought to tell me the truth. Listen while I tell you, boy, these men loved and yet were noble. You too shall love, body and soul, as they; and there shall be a place for you, boy, noble and magnificent as any. Hold true to your love: these things shall be. Instead of finding out for yourself, with a dictionary in a dark corner, by which time it’s just one other lie you’ve nailed them in on the sallady path of youth.
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