The Shaving of Shagpat by George Meredith (good books to read in english .TXT) π
Description
The Shaving of Shagpat isnβt just George Meredithβs first published novel, itβs also his only foray into fantasy literature. Shagpat sold poorly in its day despite good reviews, and after its disappointing sales Meredith pursed a career as a writer of romantic fiction instead. Despite its poor financial reception, Shagpat enjoys a good modern reputation and remains a classic of fantasy literature, with George Eliot going so far as to call it a βwork of genius.β
The book is set in the medieval fantasy-Persia of the Arabian Nights and other oriental romances. Shibli Bagarag, a poor but talented barber, encounters a mystical crone named Noorna. Together they embark on a quest to save the city of Shagpat from a tyrant who holds the city under his command by virtue of the powers of his magical hair. On the way they battle genies and afreets, save princesses, hunt for treasures, and so on.
Meredithβs language is purposefully florid, evoking the richness of the setting, and his frequent usage of quotations and aphorisms from βthe poetβ give the fantasy a decidedly literate air.
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- Author: George Meredith
Read book online Β«The Shaving of Shagpat by George Meredith (good books to read in english .TXT) πΒ». Author - George Meredith
His brow was stern, and he answered, βSurely to the dwelling of thy tribe.β
Then she wept, and pulled her veil close, murmuring, βββTis well!β
They spake no further, and pursued their journey toward the mountains and across the desert that was as a sea asleep in the blazing heat, and the sun till his setting threw no shade upon the sands bigger than what was broad above them. By the beams of the growing moon they entered the first gorge of the mountains. Here they relaxed the swiftness of their pace, picking their way over broken rocks and stunted shrubs, and the mesh of spotted creeping plants; all around them in shadow a freshness of noisy rivulets and cool scents of flowers, asphodel and rose blooming in plots from the crevices of the crags. These, as the troop advanced, wound and widened, gradually receding, and their summits, which were silver in the moonlight, took in the distance a robe of purple, and the sides of the mountains were rounded away in purple beyond a space of emerald pasture. Now, Ruark beheld the heaviness of Bhanavar, and that she drooped in her seat, and he halted her by a cave at the foot of the mountains, browed with white broom. Before it, over grass and cresses, ran a rill, a branch from others, larger ones, that went hurrying from the heights to feed the meadows below, and Bhanavar dipped her hand in the rill, and thought, βI am no more as thou, rill of the mountain, but a desert thing! Thy way is forward, thy end before thee; but I go this way and that; my end is dark to me; not a life is mine that will have its close kissing the cold cheeks of the saffron-crocus. Cold art thou, and Iβ βflames! They that lean to thee are refreshed, they that touch me perish.β Then she looked forth on the stars that were above the purple heights, and the blushes of inner heaven that streamed up the sky, and a fear of meeting the eyes of her kindred possessed her, and she cried out to Ruark, βO Chief of the Beni-Asser, must this be? and is there no help for it, but that I return among them that look on me basely?β
Ruark stooped to her and said, βTell me thy name.β
She answered, βBhanavar is my name with that people.β
And he whispered, βSurely when they speak of thee they say not Bhanavar solely, but Bhanavar the Beautiful?β
She started and sought the eye of the Chief, and it was fixed on her face in a softened light, as if his soul had said that thing. Then she sighed, and exclaimed, βUnhappy are the beautiful! born to misery! Allah dressed them in his grace and favour for their certain wretchedness! Lo, their countenances are as the sun, their existence as the desert; barren are they in fruits and waters, a snare to themselves and to others!β
Now, the Chief leaned to her yet nearer, saying, βShow me the Jewel.β
Bhanavar caught up her hands and clenched them, and she cried bitterly, βββTis known to thee! She told thee, and there be none that know it not!β
Arising, she thrust her hand into her bosom, and held forth the Jewel in the palm of her white hand. When Ruark beheld the marvel of the Jewel, and the redness moving in it as of a panting heart, and the flashing eye of fire that it was, and all its glory, he cried, βIt was indeed a Jewel for queens to covet from the Serpent, and a prize the noblest might risk all to win as a gift for thee.β
Then she said, βThy voice is friendly with me, O Ruark! and thou scornest not the creature that I am. Counsel me as to my dealing with the Jewel.β
Surely the eyes of the Chief met the eyes of Bhanavar as when the brightest stars of midnight are doubled in a clear dark lake, and he sang in measured music:
βShall I counsel the moon in her ascending?
Stay under that tall palm-tree through the night;
Rest on the mountain-slope
By the couching antelope,
O thou enthroned supremacy of light!
And forever the lustre thou art
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