Mosquitoes
by William Faulkner
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Description
Faulkner's second novel follows a bohemian cast of artists, socialites, and dilettantes as they set sail on a four-day excursion aboard the Nausikaa. Faulkner's quick wit and endless appetite for satire make this audiobook a fascinating exploration of character, as well as a rare glimpse into the author himself. The novel explores questions of sex and sexuality, as well as the societal role of the artist. Inspired by his own participation in the arts community in New Orleans, Mosquitoes is show more an engaging and delightful novel from one of America's greatest writers. show lessTags
Recommendations
Member Reviews
Rating: 3* of five
The Publisher Says: Mosquitoes centers around a colorful assortment of passengers, out on a boating excursion from New Orleans. The rich and the aspiring, social butterflies and dissolute dilettantes are all easy game for Faulkner's barbed wit in this engaging high-spirited novel which offers a fascinating glimpse of Faulkner as a young artist.
"It approaches in the first half and reaches in the second half a brilliance that you can rightfully expect only in the writings of a few men. It is full of the fine kind of swift and lusty writing that comes from a healthy, fresh pen."--Lillian Hellman, New York Herald Tribune
My Review: Well, that's over. And thank goodness for that. I loves me some Faulkner, but this is a show more mediocre book.
It's an hour-by-hour, day-by-day account of a Lake Pontchartrain boat ride, peopled by the louche and the bohemian second-ranking artistes (spoken in a veddy, veddy affected tone) who infest the ever-pretentious city of New Orleans. (I mean, really, the place is a swamp, it's rotting around its own ears, it's poor as dirt, and it's so effin' hot that even mosquitoes have the sense to move out to the lakeshore for the summer. THIS is a place to build a city?)
It's a roman à clef, taking its "inspiration" from an actual boat ride Faulkner went on in New Orleans before moving to Paris. Where, not coincidentally, Faulkner met Sylvia Beach, who published Ulysses, the famously banned-in-Murrika sexytime (for its day in the early 1920s) novel that "inspired" the hour-by-hour day-by-day format of this book.
Also not coincidentally, Joyce's masterwork (which I don't much like) "inspired" Uncle Bill to put in a lot of sex-talk, including *gasp* explicitly lesbian desires!! Maud Martha, bring the sal volatile and loosen my stays, the wimminfolk are runnin' amok!
Now that might seem a tad mean-spirited for a man writing 87 years later, to go after such a very surprising and open sexual transgression of the day, but trust me when I tell you: The roman à clef aspects of the book completely render the daringness of the author's choices into tawdry score-settling and Bret-Easton-Ellisy tittle-tattle.
Want to know why I say that? I'm tellin' ya anyway: Every character on the damn boat (the Nausicaa, "Burner of Ships," get it huh get it get it? Faulkner's bein' all erudite an' stuff!) is a loser, and Faulkner writes himself in as the only "successful" artist around:
The speaker goes on to remember his name was something like Walker or Foster, but whatever it was it started with an "F" like her friend's middle name, Frances.
Ye gods.
Well, it was only his second novel. And he'd just come home from Paris when he (most probably) wrote it, so he was still digesting the *huge* bolus of Kulcher he'd swallowed and wallowed in. He was young and this is a very young-man-overachiever kind of a novel. It's not the worst book I've ever read, and not even the least impressive Faulkner I've read (no fan of Wild Palms, me).
But it's just too good to dismiss and just too clever-clever to enjoy and just too coltish to admire in the context of the Faulkner ouevre. Neither fish nor fowl, as Mama said of suchlike creations.
Perfect title, then: Mosquitoes.
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.
A few other good quotes:
“Talk, talk, talk: the utter and heartbreaking stupidity of words.”
On a loser's "way" with women, spoken by a woman bystander:
“You tell 'em, big boy; treat 'em rough.” show less
The Publisher Says: Mosquitoes centers around a colorful assortment of passengers, out on a boating excursion from New Orleans. The rich and the aspiring, social butterflies and dissolute dilettantes are all easy game for Faulkner's barbed wit in this engaging high-spirited novel which offers a fascinating glimpse of Faulkner as a young artist.
"It approaches in the first half and reaches in the second half a brilliance that you can rightfully expect only in the writings of a few men. It is full of the fine kind of swift and lusty writing that comes from a healthy, fresh pen."--Lillian Hellman, New York Herald Tribune
My Review: Well, that's over. And thank goodness for that. I loves me some Faulkner, but this is a show more mediocre book.
It's an hour-by-hour, day-by-day account of a Lake Pontchartrain boat ride, peopled by the louche and the bohemian second-ranking artistes (spoken in a veddy, veddy affected tone) who infest the ever-pretentious city of New Orleans. (I mean, really, the place is a swamp, it's rotting around its own ears, it's poor as dirt, and it's so effin' hot that even mosquitoes have the sense to move out to the lakeshore for the summer. THIS is a place to build a city?)
It's a roman à clef, taking its "inspiration" from an actual boat ride Faulkner went on in New Orleans before moving to Paris. Where, not coincidentally, Faulkner met Sylvia Beach, who published Ulysses, the famously banned-in-Murrika sexytime (for its day in the early 1920s) novel that "inspired" the hour-by-hour day-by-day format of this book.
Also not coincidentally, Joyce's masterwork (which I don't much like) "inspired" Uncle Bill to put in a lot of sex-talk, including *gasp* explicitly lesbian desires!! Maud Martha, bring the sal volatile and loosen my stays, the wimminfolk are runnin' amok!
Now that might seem a tad mean-spirited for a man writing 87 years later, to go after such a very surprising and open sexual transgression of the day, but trust me when I tell you: The roman à clef aspects of the book completely render the daringness of the author's choices into tawdry score-settling and Bret-Easton-Ellisy tittle-tattle.
Want to know why I say that? I'm tellin' ya anyway: Every character on the damn boat (the Nausicaa, "Burner of Ships," get it huh get it get it? Faulkner's bein' all erudite an' stuff!) is a loser, and Faulkner writes himself in as the only "successful" artist around:
"Anyway, I didn't go in swimming where the man got drowned. I was waiting for them, and I got talking to a funny man. A little kind of black man--"
"A nigger?"
"No, he was a white man, except he was awful sunburned and kind of shabby dressed--no necktie and hat. Say, he said some funny things to me. He said I had the best digestion he ever saw, and he said if the straps of my dress was to break I'd devastate the country. He said he was a liar by profession, and he made good money at it, enough to own a Ford as soon as he got it paid out. I think he was crazy. Not dangerous, just crazy."
The speaker goes on to remember his name was something like Walker or Foster, but whatever it was it started with an "F" like her friend's middle name, Frances.
Ye gods.
Well, it was only his second novel. And he'd just come home from Paris when he (most probably) wrote it, so he was still digesting the *huge* bolus of Kulcher he'd swallowed and wallowed in. He was young and this is a very young-man-overachiever kind of a novel. It's not the worst book I've ever read, and not even the least impressive Faulkner I've read (no fan of Wild Palms, me).
But it's just too good to dismiss and just too clever-clever to enjoy and just too coltish to admire in the context of the Faulkner ouevre. Neither fish nor fowl, as Mama said of suchlike creations.
Perfect title, then: Mosquitoes.
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.
A few other good quotes:
“Talk, talk, talk: the utter and heartbreaking stupidity of words.”
On a loser's "way" with women, spoken by a woman bystander:
“You tell 'em, big boy; treat 'em rough.” show less
7. Mosquitoes by William Faulkner
OPD: 1927
format: 368 pages within an ebook anthology: William Faulkner: Novels 1926-1929: Soldiers' Pay / Mosquitoes / Flags in the Dust / The Sound and the Fury
acquired: January 1 read: Jan 21 – Feb 7 time reading: 11:20, 1.8 mpp
rating: 3½
genre/style: Novel theme: Faulkner
locations: then contemporary New Orleans and surrounding waterways
about the author: 1897-1962. American Noble Laureate who was born in New Albany, MS, and lived most of his life in Oxford, MS.
Faulkner's second novel is another that few have read. It has some issues, and while reading I was thinking of all the ways I would complain about them, but actually it reads ok overall, and I find myself with an odd affection for it.
It has a show more touch of a Gilligan's Island feel. A wealthy widow in New Orleans invites a selected crowd on her yacht for an overnight trip. Alas the yacht grounds, and the clash of wealthy single women, male artists, a rambler, local New Orleans girl, and the crew stews on the edge of a humid Louisiana lake rife mosquitoes, in middle of nowhere. And there is only grapefruit, liquor, and cigarettes for sustenance.
The text has a nice flow until the boat grounds. Then it sputters in spits and starts, jumping to random episodes and conversations. The artists are mostly middle-aged men, and they find themselves improperly attracted to their host's slightly dressed teenage niece, who skinny dips before dawn, and the equally slightly dressed teenage local New Orleans girl the niece invited, having just met her before the trip. Sometimes Faulkner manages to be erotic, but mostly he is being intentionally disturbing for comedic effect. And then he mixes in scattered decently serious drunken thoughts on writing and art. One character reads poems out loud to the others, presented to reader.
This awkward book has endearing flawed characters, and entertaining aspects that I'll continue to think about. And I really liked that it touches a little on New Orleans, especially in the epilogue. It maybe spends a little too much time stranded in a mosquito-infested lake, time standing still.
Recommended for the curious and forgiving.
2024
https://www.librarything.com/topic/356616#8413087 show less
OPD: 1927
format: 368 pages within an ebook anthology: William Faulkner: Novels 1926-1929: Soldiers' Pay / Mosquitoes / Flags in the Dust / The Sound and the Fury
acquired: January 1 read: Jan 21 – Feb 7 time reading: 11:20, 1.8 mpp
rating: 3½
genre/style: Novel theme: Faulkner
locations: then contemporary New Orleans and surrounding waterways
about the author: 1897-1962. American Noble Laureate who was born in New Albany, MS, and lived most of his life in Oxford, MS.
Faulkner's second novel is another that few have read. It has some issues, and while reading I was thinking of all the ways I would complain about them, but actually it reads ok overall, and I find myself with an odd affection for it.
It has a show more touch of a Gilligan's Island feel. A wealthy widow in New Orleans invites a selected crowd on her yacht for an overnight trip. Alas the yacht grounds, and the clash of wealthy single women, male artists, a rambler, local New Orleans girl, and the crew stews on the edge of a humid Louisiana lake rife mosquitoes, in middle of nowhere. And there is only grapefruit, liquor, and cigarettes for sustenance.
The text has a nice flow until the boat grounds. Then it sputters in spits and starts, jumping to random episodes and conversations. The artists are mostly middle-aged men, and they find themselves improperly attracted to their host's slightly dressed teenage niece, who skinny dips before dawn, and the equally slightly dressed teenage local New Orleans girl the niece invited, having just met her before the trip. Sometimes Faulkner manages to be erotic, but mostly he is being intentionally disturbing for comedic effect. And then he mixes in scattered decently serious drunken thoughts on writing and art. One character reads poems out loud to the others, presented to reader.
This awkward book has endearing flawed characters, and entertaining aspects that I'll continue to think about. And I really liked that it touches a little on New Orleans, especially in the epilogue. It maybe spends a little too much time stranded in a mosquito-infested lake, time standing still.
Recommended for the curious and forgiving.
2024
https://www.librarything.com/topic/356616#8413087 show less
Mosquitoes is Faulkner's 2nd published novel. It comes before he discovered that his "little postage stamp of native soil" would be the most fertile ground for his story-telling style to take root and grow in. It is set primarily on board the yacht of Mrs. Patricia Maurier, a wealthy woman who collects artists. She has invited a sculptor; a painter; a couple poets and a novelist; an art critic; her twin niece and nephew; an odd British businessman with a notion to sell laxatives to Americans who he says are "always constipated"; and a middle-aged Don Juan wannabe for a pleasure cruise on Lake Ponchartrain, north of New Orleans. The niece brings along a young couple she has met casually in the French Quarter. They are a motley crew, for show more certain; uncomfortably tossed together and subjected to Mrs. Maurier's proposed diet of dancing, bridge and grapefruit, they sort themselves rather differently than she had it planned. Some of the characters try for sophistication, but only manage superficiality. Others, (the seldom-named "Semitic man", for example) speak with some authority and even wisdom on the subject of art and the artist's perception of himself. Sexual tensions and attractions of every variation abound; plenty of whisky is consumed; the boat runs aground; tall tales are told round the dinner table; people disappear into the swamp and return. Someone is always scratching an ankle or an arm; the mosquitoes find them even in the middle of the lake when the wind is offshore. There is abundant satire, even farce; Faulkner sticks himself sideways into the tale with an amusing cameo appearance. It is almost too clear what Faulkner was attempting to do with this captive cast. In fact, the whole thing has a rather self-conscious feel to it. Some of the dialog, especially the "modern" slang, which may have rung true to contemporary readers, is so dated now that it fails to evoke real people talking at all. This has never felt true of Faulkner's hill people, whose dialect can be very broad, but sounds utterly authentic in a way that Patricia's ejaculatory "Gabriel's pants!" or her penchant for calling her brother by any male name but his own, never does. Most importantly, he was testing out some techniques, themes, images and characterizations that he would hone and improve magnificently in his later works. In retrospect you can see the ancestors of Eula Varner; Temple Drake; Gowan Stevens; Caddie, Quentin and Benjy Compson; and others floating along in the mists. Olga Vickery called this, along with his first novel, Soldiers' Pay, Faulkner's "literary apprenticeship". As such, and for some truly funny moments, it is worth reading if you're a Faulknerian. Otherwise, I won't recommend it to you. show less
As a disconnected and individual book, this one wasn't very good. However, in the context of Faulkner's artistic development (particularly juxtaposed with Soldiers' Pay), Mosquitoes is a very interesting read. Here, the young writer maintained his social interest in the characters inhabiting his world but compounded them with a much more elaborate and ambitious intellectual project. At times, sure, this came off as overly engineered and trying to hard, but the fact that he was even interested in aping European modernists gave him a structural framework to hang his characters on that exceeds most novelists' sophomore effort. It shows his artistic interests, though his language is still a little vague and full of self-created idioms, show more which are endlessly repeated. Okay, we get it, Talliaferro is "diffident," Mark Frost has "a prehensile mouth," no need to tell us over and over. There is frequently "a rumor of moonlight" and "a shock of hair."
These are easy violations to forgive in hindsight. We know this young author will become the Faulkner of Absalom, Absalom! and As I Lay Dying so watching him ease into more disciplined prose is actually a delight. A bit like watching Mozart play around with scales, if ever a thing were possible. Not only that but there are worthwhile themes and stylistic experiments in this novel that have the ability to shock and move the reader. It may pale in comparison to his later works but it is still a pretty good read.
Reading an author's work from beginning to end provides insight into the way he develops his ideas and style. In my humble opinion there is no better way to approach an artist. For that I completely recommend Mosquitoes to anyone interested in approaching Faulkner's oeuvre. show less
These are easy violations to forgive in hindsight. We know this young author will become the Faulkner of Absalom, Absalom! and As I Lay Dying so watching him ease into more disciplined prose is actually a delight. A bit like watching Mozart play around with scales, if ever a thing were possible. Not only that but there are worthwhile themes and stylistic experiments in this novel that have the ability to shock and move the reader. It may pale in comparison to his later works but it is still a pretty good read.
Reading an author's work from beginning to end provides insight into the way he develops his ideas and style. In my humble opinion there is no better way to approach an artist. For that I completely recommend Mosquitoes to anyone interested in approaching Faulkner's oeuvre. show less
As a disconnected and individual book, this one wasn't very good. However, in the context of Faulkner's artistic development (particularly juxtaposed with Soldiers' Pay), Mosquitoes is a very interesting read. Here, the young writer maintained his social interest in the characters inhabiting his world but compounded them with a much more elaborate and ambitious intellectual project. At times, sure, this came off as overly engineered and trying to hard, but the fact that he was even interested in aping European modernists gave him a structural framework to hang his characters on that exceeds most novelists' sophomore effort. It shows his artistic interests, though his language is still a little vague and full of self-created idioms, show more which are endlessly repeated. Okay, we get it, Talliaferro is "diffident," Mark Frost has "a prehensile mouth," no need to tell us over and over. There is frequently "a rumor of moonlight" and "a shock of hair."
These are easy violations to forgive in hindsight. We know this young author will become the Faulkner of Absalom, Absalom! and As I Lay Dying so watching him ease into more disciplined prose is actually a delight. A bit like watching Mozart play around with scales, if ever a thing were possible. Not only that but there are worthwhile themes and stylistic experiments in this novel that have the ability to shock and move the reader. It may pale in comparison to his later works but it is still a pretty good read.
Reading an author's work from beginning to end provides insight into the way he develops his ideas and style. In my humble opinion there is no better way to approach an artist. For that I completely recommend Mosquitoes to anyone interested in approaching Faulkner's oeuvre. show less
These are easy violations to forgive in hindsight. We know this young author will become the Faulkner of Absalom, Absalom! and As I Lay Dying so watching him ease into more disciplined prose is actually a delight. A bit like watching Mozart play around with scales, if ever a thing were possible. Not only that but there are worthwhile themes and stylistic experiments in this novel that have the ability to shock and move the reader. It may pale in comparison to his later works but it is still a pretty good read.
Reading an author's work from beginning to end provides insight into the way he develops his ideas and style. In my humble opinion there is no better way to approach an artist. For that I completely recommend Mosquitoes to anyone interested in approaching Faulkner's oeuvre. show less
“Mosquitoes” was the second novel Faulkner wrote. It’s a satire set in New Orleans, and while it’s amusing it’s not really laugh out loud funny. It’s a sort of “Ship of Fools” but with a smaller boat and possibly more foolish people.
A woman of means, Mrs. Maurier, who wields power in the art buying world, arranges a boat party for a few artists and writers. Her niece and nephew are also included, and they snag a couple of other people they’ve never even met before, right off the dock. This mismatched group, who apparently didn’t think things through, finds themselves on Lake Pontchartrain for several days. Mrs. Maurier seems to expect artistic conversation and jolly dances. Instead she gets people who stay show more consistently drunk and who try and seduce each other. And complain about the fact that they are served grapefruits at every meal. The boat runs aground, some of them try and swim to shore and walk back to the Big Easy, another someone disappears.
These are some of the most annoying people on earth. If I were stuck on a boat with them for days, I’d go overboard, too. It’s fun to read about them at times, but I have to admit I was bored part of the time, too. There is a good bit of repetition. I had trouble remembering who was who- three of the men seemed interchangeable (one was even called “the Semitic man” instead of named most of the time!) and a couple of the young girls did, too. They are the true parasites of the story, not the mosquitoes which, while biting constantly, are never named. None of the women are portrayed in a good light. Three stars. show less
A woman of means, Mrs. Maurier, who wields power in the art buying world, arranges a boat party for a few artists and writers. Her niece and nephew are also included, and they snag a couple of other people they’ve never even met before, right off the dock. This mismatched group, who apparently didn’t think things through, finds themselves on Lake Pontchartrain for several days. Mrs. Maurier seems to expect artistic conversation and jolly dances. Instead she gets people who stay show more consistently drunk and who try and seduce each other. And complain about the fact that they are served grapefruits at every meal. The boat runs aground, some of them try and swim to shore and walk back to the Big Easy, another someone disappears.
These are some of the most annoying people on earth. If I were stuck on a boat with them for days, I’d go overboard, too. It’s fun to read about them at times, but I have to admit I was bored part of the time, too. There is a good bit of repetition. I had trouble remembering who was who- three of the men seemed interchangeable (one was even called “the Semitic man” instead of named most of the time!) and a couple of the young girls did, too. They are the true parasites of the story, not the mosquitoes which, while biting constantly, are never named. None of the women are portrayed in a good light. Three stars. show less
I know I read it but very little has stayed with me later in the same year.
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Born in an old Mississippi family, William Faulkner made his home in Oxford, seat of the University of Mississippi. After the fifth grade he went to school only off and on-lived, read, and wrote much as he pleased. In 1918, refusing to enlist with the "Yankees," he joined the Canadian Air Force, and was transferred to the British Royal Air Force. show more After the war he studied a little at the University, did house painting, worked as a night superintendent at a power plant, went to New Orleans and became a friend of Sherwood Anderson, then to Europe and back home to Oxford. By this time he had written two novels. The Sound and the Fury followed in 1929. Financial success came with Sanctuary in 1931, which he assisted in filming. Faulkner 's novels are intense in their character portrayals of disintegrating Southern aristocrats, poor whites, and African Americans. A complex stream-of-consciousness rhetoric often involves Faulkner in lengthy sentences of anguished power. Most of his tales are set in the mythical Yoknapatawpha County, Mississippi, and are characterized by the use of many recurring characters from families of different social levels spanning more than a century. His best subjects are the old, dying South and the newer materialistic South. As I Lay Dying (1930), is a grotesquely tragicomic story about a family of poor southern whites. With Absalom, Absalom! (1936); the difficult parts of his famous short novel "The Bear" (published in Go Down, Moses, 1942); and the allegorical A Fable (1954), a non-Yoknapatawpha novel set in France during World War I; Faulkner returned to an innovative and difficult style that most readers have trouble with. Yet, interspersed among such works are collections of easily read stories originally published in popular magazines. There seems to be a growing sentiment among critics that the Snopes trilogy-The Hamlet (1940), The Town (1957), and The Mansion (1959)-for the most part an example of Faulkner's "moderate" style, could well be among his most important works. Faulkner was awarded the 1949 Nobel Prize for literature "for his powerful and artistically independent contribution to the new American novel," but it would appear now that he also deserved to win that honor for his contribution to world literature. When reporting his death, the Boston Globe quoted Faulkner's having once told an interviewer: "Since man is mortal, the only immortality for him is to leave something behind him that is immortal since it will always move. That is the artist's way of scribbling "Kilroy was here" on the wall of the final and irrevocable oblivion through which he must some day pass." In addition to the Nobel Prize, Faulkner received the Howells Medal of the American Academy of Arts and Letters in 1950, and in 1951 he was given the National Book Award for his Collected Stories Collected Stories. For his novel A Fable he received the National Book Award for the second time, as well as the Pulitzer Prize in 1955. The Reivers (1962) was awarded the Pulitzer Prize in 1963. In 1957 and 1958, he was the University of Virginia's first writer-in-residence, and in January 1959 he accepted an appointment as consultant on contemporary literature to the Alderman Library of that university. Although Faulkner was not without honors in his lifetime and has received world recognition since then, it is surprising to learn that, when Malcolm Cowley edited The Portable Faulkner in 1946, he found that almost all of Faulkner's books were out of print. By arranging selections from the works to form a continuous chronicle, Cowley deserves much of the credit for making readers aware of the way in which Faulkner was creating a fictive world on a scale grander than that of any novelist since Balzac. William Faulkner died in Oxford, Mississippi, in 1962. (Bowker Author Biography) show less
Work Relationships
Common Knowledge
- Canonical title
- Mosquitoes
- Original title
- Mosquitoes
- Original publication date
- 1927
- People/Characters
- Ernest Talliaferro; Gordon; Mrs. Patricia Maurier; Patricia Robyn; Joshua Robyn; Dawson Fairchild (show all 15); Mark Frost; Julius; Eva Wiseman; Dorothy Jameson; Pete; Genevieve Steinbauer; Major Ayers; David West; the captain
- Important places
- New Orleans, Louisiana, USA; Lake Pontchartrain, Louisiana, USA
- Dedication
- To Helen
- First words
- "The sex instinct," repeated Mr. Talliaferro in his careful cockney, with that smug complacence with which you plead guilty to a characteristic which you privately consider a virtue, "is quite strong in me."
- Quotations*
- «Ha visto il tramonto stasera, maggiore Ayers? – chiese a voce alta la Wiseman. – Un delizioso guazzabuglio, no?» «La natura sta regolando i conti con Turner», suggerì il poeta.
«Però, ci si potrebbe ancora scolpire Leda che stringe la sua anatra tra le cosce, – fece notare l'altro. – È grande abbastanza per questo. Oppure…» «Cigno», corresse Fairchild. «No. Anatra, – insisté l'ebreo.... (show all) – Gli americani preferirebbero un'anatra … »
« … Be' s'immagini un po' lei la situazione: una tradizione di agiatezza inattaccabile che vi si sbriciolava sotto i piedi e dalle rovine si rialzava un uomo che un tempo vi teneva la staffa quando salivate a cavallo… Tr... (show all)ent'anni è appena l'adolescenza dell'amarezza, sa. … »
« … La gente è molto più tollerante verso gli artisti di quanto non lo sian gli artisti verso la gente».
La porta si spalancò, lasciando cadere un fascio di luce attraverso il marciapiede, poi si richiuse, riprendendosi il fascio di luce.
Un gatto, strisciando furtivo, lo guardò, poi fece balenare attraverso il vicolo una striscia rapida e grigiastra.
… sentendosi vuoto e un po' stanco e udendo il brontolio del suo scheletro – quel compagno soddisfatto di sé e arcigno e incrollabile che ama talmente sussurrare «te l'avevo detto» … - Last words
- (Click to show. Warning: May contain spoilers.)"You tell'em, big boy; treat 'em rough."
- Original language
- English
*Some information comes from Common Knowledge in other languages. Click "Edit" for more information.
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