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ارواح پیر
نه داستان کوتاه از هفت نویسنده دنیا
- GenresShort Stories
52 pages, ebook
First published August 1, 2000
About the author
A.J. McKenna
1 bookLibrarian's note: There is more than one author by this name in the Goodreads database.
A.J. McKenna is a pseudonym of David Donovan who has had stories publised in UK and Irish magazines. Married and living in Surrey he also writes novels and screenplays.
A.J. McKenna is a pseudonym of David Donovan who has had stories publised in UK and Irish magazines. Married and living in Surrey he also writes novels and screenplays.
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Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews
November 18, 2016
YOU keep discovering new writers every now and then. Today I discovered A.J. McKenna and his “Old Ghosts” which was nothing less than finding "Mackenna’s Gold". And if you have seen the Western, I am sure you know what I am alluding to.
“Climbing painfully from a sore mattress, standing in striped pyjamas by the window, Jim stares gardenwards. There's much too be done. Later. Much later. These days it's all weed killing, backache and wishes. Outside in the sunrise garden roses are already awake, clematis climbs like a growing child and all the border marigolds are on fire.”
“Next door's dog barks. A cat scales a glass sharp wall and drops beside its shadow under an apple tree, stalking anxious sparrows with the first sun. Under the broken birdhouse a mouse plays with a nibble of yesterday's bread. Shadows shrink in bright shyness against all the garden fences and the last star melts into dawnrise. There's heat in the breathless August day already.”
Both paragraphs contain either a long sentence followed by short sentences or a short one followed by several long sentences, the way English is meant to be written so as not to make it monotonous, so as to make it more exciting. The sentences are stupendous to read. Besides, both paragraphs contain several alliterations and are full of imagery.
“…when he moves his faded slippered feet dust dances giddily on the sun-patched carpet.” So amazing, so poetic. You can see the image in your mind as if you were watching a film.
“Jim walks to the hall and picks up bills and ads that promise discounts and holidays abroad. Jim has never been out of Ireland, never crossed the sea. His tired eyes examine the envelopes at arm's length. There are no birthday cards to sigh over - these days who would know?”
You can’t help but feel sorry for the septuagenarian. How you wish you could send him on a cruise to the Mediterranean! Or even that you knew his address so that you could send him a Hallmark birthday card.
“When he turns on the wireless the news assaults his soul. The world is littered with dead children and pain. Bad news amuses while the ad men slip in a jingle. The world has gone mad with cruelty and nobody seems to have noticed.”
Only a perceptive and humane mind could have written this. Children are dying everyday in Syria, Iraq, Palestine, Kashmir, Somalia and Afghanistan. But who really cares! And now all the more so with US President-elect Trump about to replace Barack Obama. Even French politician Marine Le Pen, president of the National Front, is feeling mighty thrilled about Mr Trump’s win so that they can join forces in being racist and spreading xenophobia and making the world into a more worse place.
'Time flies,' he says. “He's talking to himself most days - who else will listen?”
How often have you talked with yourself during your childhood!? But I have done it in my youth too, even in my thirties, when loneliness was creeping at me like a ghost. And a mocking colleague thought that I had gone mad! He told me so himself -- and I ignored him.
“Jim walks home through the heating streets towards sanctuary at seventy six.”
What better haven than home itself!
“Jim and Ellen walking down the path with mama at the door, waving like a mother, waiting until they are beyond the gate, forever worrying about crossing roads and unsuspected illnesses. Tuberculosis, Pneumonia. Polio. Measles. Mumps. You name it. Young people often died young back then.”
Young people die young even today in Third-World countries like India, Afghanistan and Pakistan. In Pakistan, they also die because of American drones dropping bombs on them. How easy it is for the US to get off unscathed with the simple statement of “Collateral damage”. Will the US ever say “Mea culpa!”? That will be the day!
“On the radio a woman sings Four Last Songs. You don't have to know the language. Such sweet sorrow. Who said that?”
Most of my literary friends on goodreads know that “Parting is such sweet sorrow that I shall say goodnight till it be morrow” was written by William Shakespeare for Romeo and Juliet.
Is the ending happy? Or is it really melancholic with the author trying to disguise it as happy so that your tears can be controlled? But isn’t parting supposed to be such sweet sorrow?
Whatever the outcome, it is a beautiful and moving story. Highly recommended for both young and old.
“Climbing painfully from a sore mattress, standing in striped pyjamas by the window, Jim stares gardenwards. There's much too be done. Later. Much later. These days it's all weed killing, backache and wishes. Outside in the sunrise garden roses are already awake, clematis climbs like a growing child and all the border marigolds are on fire.”
“Next door's dog barks. A cat scales a glass sharp wall and drops beside its shadow under an apple tree, stalking anxious sparrows with the first sun. Under the broken birdhouse a mouse plays with a nibble of yesterday's bread. Shadows shrink in bright shyness against all the garden fences and the last star melts into dawnrise. There's heat in the breathless August day already.”
Both paragraphs contain either a long sentence followed by short sentences or a short one followed by several long sentences, the way English is meant to be written so as not to make it monotonous, so as to make it more exciting. The sentences are stupendous to read. Besides, both paragraphs contain several alliterations and are full of imagery.
“…when he moves his faded slippered feet dust dances giddily on the sun-patched carpet.” So amazing, so poetic. You can see the image in your mind as if you were watching a film.
“Jim walks to the hall and picks up bills and ads that promise discounts and holidays abroad. Jim has never been out of Ireland, never crossed the sea. His tired eyes examine the envelopes at arm's length. There are no birthday cards to sigh over - these days who would know?”
You can’t help but feel sorry for the septuagenarian. How you wish you could send him on a cruise to the Mediterranean! Or even that you knew his address so that you could send him a Hallmark birthday card.
“When he turns on the wireless the news assaults his soul. The world is littered with dead children and pain. Bad news amuses while the ad men slip in a jingle. The world has gone mad with cruelty and nobody seems to have noticed.”
Only a perceptive and humane mind could have written this. Children are dying everyday in Syria, Iraq, Palestine, Kashmir, Somalia and Afghanistan. But who really cares! And now all the more so with US President-elect Trump about to replace Barack Obama. Even French politician Marine Le Pen, president of the National Front, is feeling mighty thrilled about Mr Trump’s win so that they can join forces in being racist and spreading xenophobia and making the world into a more worse place.
'Time flies,' he says. “He's talking to himself most days - who else will listen?”
How often have you talked with yourself during your childhood!? But I have done it in my youth too, even in my thirties, when loneliness was creeping at me like a ghost. And a mocking colleague thought that I had gone mad! He told me so himself -- and I ignored him.
“Jim walks home through the heating streets towards sanctuary at seventy six.”
What better haven than home itself!
“Jim and Ellen walking down the path with mama at the door, waving like a mother, waiting until they are beyond the gate, forever worrying about crossing roads and unsuspected illnesses. Tuberculosis, Pneumonia. Polio. Measles. Mumps. You name it. Young people often died young back then.”
Young people die young even today in Third-World countries like India, Afghanistan and Pakistan. In Pakistan, they also die because of American drones dropping bombs on them. How easy it is for the US to get off unscathed with the simple statement of “Collateral damage”. Will the US ever say “Mea culpa!”? That will be the day!
“On the radio a woman sings Four Last Songs. You don't have to know the language. Such sweet sorrow. Who said that?”
Most of my literary friends on goodreads know that “Parting is such sweet sorrow that I shall say goodnight till it be morrow” was written by William Shakespeare for Romeo and Juliet.
Is the ending happy? Or is it really melancholic with the author trying to disguise it as happy so that your tears can be controlled? But isn’t parting supposed to be such sweet sorrow?
Whatever the outcome, it is a beautiful and moving story. Highly recommended for both young and old.
December 4, 2014
نویسنده به خوبی پوچی یک زندگی بی عشق رو نشون داده بود.یک روزمرگی مداوم
ممنون از خانم محمدی بابت ترجمه زیبای این داستان
ممنون از خانم محمدی بابت ترجمه زیبای این داستان
November 25, 2014
داستان رو دوس داشتم.. تامل برانگیز بود..
جمله ی ساختارشکنانه و براندازانه اش به نظرم این بود که : خوشحالم که دیگر جوان نیستم..
:)
ممنون از بانو محمدی
جمله ی ساختارشکنانه و براندازانه اش به نظرم این بود که : خوشحالم که دیگر جوان نیستم..
:)
ممنون از بانو محمدی
Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews