Lavengro by George Borrow (read me a book txt) π
Description
Lavengro, the Scholar, the Gypsy, the Priest, published in 1851, is a heavily fictionalized account of George Borrowβs early years. Borrow, born in 1803, was a writer and self-taught polyglot, fluent in many European languages, and a lover of literature.
The Romany Rye, published six years later in 1857, is sometimes described as the βsequelβ to Lavengro, but in fact it begins with a straight continuation of the action of the first book, which breaks off rather suddenly. The two books therefore are best considered as a whole and read together, and this Standard Ebooks edition combines the two into one volume.
In the novel Borrow tells of his upbringing as the son of an army recruiting officer, moving with the regiment to different locations in Britain, including Scotland and Ireland. It is in Ireland that he first encounters a strange new language which he is keen to learn, leading to a life-long passion for acquiring new tongues. A couple of years later in England, he comes across a camp of gypsies and meets the gypsy Jasper Petulengro, who becomes a life-long friend. Borrow is delighted to discover that the Romany have their own language, which of course he immediately sets out to learn.
Borrowβs subsequent life, up to his mid-twenties, is that of a wanderer, traveling from place to place in Britain, encountering many interesting individuals and having a variety of entertaining adventures. He constantly comes in contact with the gypsies and with Petulengro, and becomes familiar with their language and culture.
The book also includes a considerable amount of criticism of the Catholic Church and its priests. Several chapters are devoted to Borrowβs discussions with βthe man in black,β depicted as a cynical Catholic priest who has no real belief in the religious teachings of the Church but who is devoted to seeing it reinstated in England in order for its revenues to increase.
Lavengro was not an immediate critical success on its release, but after Borrow died in 1881, it began to grow in popularity and critical acclaim. It is now considered a classic of English Literature. This Standard Ebooks edition of Lavengro and The Romany Rye is based on the editions published by John Murray and edited by W. I. Knapp, with many clarifying notes.
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Myself. One of them there? I donβt know what you mean.
Man. Why, we have been thinking you were a goblinβ βa devilkin! However, I see how it is: you are a sap-engro, a chap who catches snakes, and plays tricks with them! Well, it comes very nearly to the same thing; and if you please to list with us, and bear us pleasant company, we shall be glad of you. Iβd take my oath upon it that we might make a mort of money by you and that sap, and the tricks it could do; and, as you seem fly to everything, I shouldnβt wonder if you would make a prime hand at telling fortunes.
βI shouldnβt wonder,β said I.
Man. Of course. And you might still be our God Almighty, or at any rate our clergyman, so you should live in a tilted cart by yourself and say prayers to us night and morningβ βto wifelkin here, and all our family; thereβs plenty of us when we are all together; as I said before, you seem fly, I shouldnβt wonder if you could read.
βOh, yes!β said I, βI can read;β and, eager to display my accomplishments, I took my book out of my pocket, and opening it at random, proceeded to read how a certain man whilst wandering about a certain solitary island, entered a cave, the mouth of which was overgrown with brushwood, and how he was nearly frightened to death in that cave by something which he saw.
βThat will do,β said the man; βthatβs the kind of prayers for me and my family, arβnβt they, wifelkin? I never heard more delicate prayers in all my life! Why, they beat the rubricals hollow!β βand here comes my son Jasper.34 I say, Jasper, hereβs a young sap-engro that can read, and is more fly than yourself. Shake hands with him; I wish ye to be two brothers.β
With a swift but stealthy pace Jasper came towards us from the farther part of the lane; on reaching the tent he stood still, and looked fixedly upon me as I sat upon the stool; I looked fixedly upon him. A queer look had Jasper; he was a lad of some twelve or thirteen years, with long arms, unlike the singular being who called himself his father; his complexion was ruddy, but his face was seamed, though it did not bear the peculiar scar which disfigured the countenance of the other; nor, though roguish enough, a certain evil expression which that of the other bore, and which the face of the woman possessed in a yet more remarkable degree. For the rest, he wore drab breeches, with certain strings at the knee, a rather gay waistcoat, and tolerably white shirt; under his arm he bore a mighty whip of whalebone with a brass knob, and upon his head was a hat without either top or brim.
βThere, Jasper! shake hands, with the sap-engro.β
βCan he box, father?β said Jasper, surveying me rather contemptuously. βI should think not, he looks so puny and small.β
βHold your peace, fool!β said the man; βhe can do more than thatβ βI tell you heβs fly; he carries a sap about, which would sting a ninny like you to dead.β
βWhat, a sap-engro!β said the boy, with a singular whine, and, stooping down, he leered curiously in my face, kindly, however, and then patted me on the head. βA sap-engro,β he ejaculated; βlor!β
βYes, and one of the right sort,β said the man; βI am glad we have met with him; he is going to list with us, and be our clergyman and God Almighty, aβnβt you, my tawny?β
βI donβt know,β said I; βI must see what my father will say.β
βYour father; bah!ββ βbut here he stopped, for a sound was heard like the rapid galloping of a horse, not loud and distinct as on a road, but dull and heavy as if upon a grass sward; nearer and nearer it came, and the man, starting up, rushed out of the tent, and looked around anxiously. I arose from the stool upon which I had been seated, and just at that moment, amidst a crashing of boughs and sticks, a man on horseback bounded over the hedge into the lane at a few yardsβ distance from where we were; from the impetus of the leap the horse was nearly down on his knees; the rider, however, by dint of vigorous handling of the reins, prevented him from falling, and then rode up to the tent. βββTis Nat,β said the man; βwhat brings him here?β The newcomer was a stout, burly fellow, about the middle age; he had a savage, determined look, and his face was nearly covered over with carbuncles; he wore a broad slouching hat, and was dressed in a grey coat, cut in a fashion which I afterwards learnt to be the genuine Newmarket cut, the skirts being exceedingly short; his waistcoat was of red plush, and he wore broad corduroy breeches and white top-boots. The steed which carried him was of iron grey, spirited and powerful, but covered with sweat and foam. The fellow glanced fiercely and suspiciously around, and said something to the man of the tent in a harsh and rapid voice. A short and hurried conversation ensued in the strange tongue. I could not take my eyes off this newcomer. Oh, that half-jockey half-bruiser countenance, I never forgot it! More than fifteen years afterwards I found myself amidst a crowd before Newgate; a gallows was erected, and beneath it
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