Did you end up with a good looking nose? To say that sounds like a painful time would be a great understatement. We in the west cannot comprehend, I sitting here in my cabin in Colorado, cannot get my head around all this. By the way, do you write in your language and then translate it?
What to tell you, the nose was straight before and straight for some time after but then it became less straight, it's really tempting to say "it's because of this! because of this!" but then I look at my family photos ..nah. It's because of them))
No, I write in English. I know, it's bad. I try to doublecheck, and whatnot. Still bad. I'd have much easier time here if I'd be writing in my native language. I think. Or maybe not.
Thank you for reading, Weston, I'm amazed you have the patience. Really. At some point, I lost mine, and decided that I'm not posting it. Oh well.
Those stories of yours have a real power, like the kind from my grandfather who, at 7 years old, shot a coyote about to eat his baby brother sleeping in the bassinet. That world does not exist in this country anymore but it does in your childhood and mine.
I have never seen you yet know that with or without a plaster covering your whole face, you are SO incredibly beautiful. Sigh. These words are soul beauty. Thankyou for making a picture with them.
Chen. Your words are the playwrights that creates many roles. The words speak in a language of rhythmic beats. The stage is set. Alone your nose was broken by a snowball that eventually melted and you held the fort while your’ friends’ left you.
Take another snowball, roll it in wet snow. Let each snow flake be a word to build a castle-fort and every snowball shot, written from your hand will reach their mark. Someone will understand and even an audience of one will be amazed to see or read your play of words.
But what a terrible thing is to perform surgery without anesthetics, and on children! And the fact that you and the other girls had to keep down that poor little boy, such boundless rudeness, the total lack of regard, the cruelty of it all.
I completely agree, that second one was an epitomy of terrible. Shouldn't be a doctor. Shouldn't be let anywhere near kids.
The first surgeon, the one who was operating on me, was actually good...just an elderly guy knowing what he's doing, no streaks of cruelty.
They just didn't "spend" anesthesia on us, during such surgeries. Beats me why. Was it shortage? Was it some rule, that unless one gets cut open they don't use anesthesia? What if I did move? It was really hard not to. One moves-complications. What if our fingers slipped while holding that poor boy's head? Don't know.
Obviously all procedures and root canals also didn't include any anesthesia.
I enjoy your cadence in English. Though I studied Russian for two years, I could never write in that language. When reading your work I hear my good friend Pavel, who is having some "difficulties" in Czech Republic right now. Keep writing.
Sorry, I am so late. Чехов считал, Краткость- сестра таланта. Еще о нем: в его пьесах никогда ничего не меняется, вспомни его пьесы. Твой рассказ состоит из 2 частей. 1-ая- общее ироническое описание империи. И это хорошо. От абстрактной империи ты переходишь к конкретному эпизоду детства, варварства врача и т.д. Ты так ошеломляешь читателя жестокостью, что он(и)уже забыл (и) твой рассказ об империи, и твоя ирония пропала. Тебе не надо так распыляться, мне кажется. You have a talent not only as a poet.
Мой прадед крепко дружил с Чеховым до самой его безвременной кончины. В отличие от некоторых других персонажей, ничего кроме любви и восхищения к нему не испытывал. Антон Павлович был чудеснейшим человеком и велким писателем, но увы, довольно рано покинул наш мир. Доживи он хотя бы до возраста госпожи Хен Рафаэли, может быть тоже научился бы писать как она. Не только удивительно точно и широко, но и динамично, связывая воедино на первый взгляд, разнородные явления. То что Вам, уважаемая госпожа Римерман, показалось распылением, на самом деле просто сведённые вместе разные проявления одного и того же состояния человечества. И поведение империи, и поведение врачей, и даже решения учителей и воспитателей по детскому кастингу, происходят от одного корня - пренебрежение к чувствам, боли, слезам и крови отдельного человека. Ну мы все можем привести миллион примеров этого. Как говорил Луи Пастер, когда б вы знали сколько всего растёт из сора. Не ведая стыда - нет стыда у империи, нет его и у врачихи в свежепостиранном халате. Да и у мальчишек со снежками тоже нет.
This is so funny: Доживи он (Чехов, как я понимаю) хотя бы до возраста госпожи Хен Рафаэли, может быть научился бы писать как она. Т.е. гений госпожи Рафаэли гораздо выше Чеховского... Это что, фельетон, анекдот?
я даже не знаю, что сказать. кроме того что Вы потрясающе необъективны и слишком ко мне добры?
and-Chekhov was also younger than me??
"король воскликнул "господи" и снова лег в кровать"
it's really hard to concentrate right now. I'd say "oh I'll get back later to answer promptly" but maybe I'll be stuck in "hard to concentrate" for a long time.
Dear Larisa, nothing to be sorry about -I appreciate so much your comments, always. I'm grateful you found the time to read and comment.
I remember the plays, Chekhov is one of my most favorite writers. That's what I meant- ничего не меняется...
You're right, of course, as it's not a story per se -it's part-story, part-rant. To me, the first part is so much more cruel...I hoped the readers will find something more uplifting in my story about my nose. The nose was fixed after all. худо-бедно.
That year, when I was 12, was, looking back, full of very different, as they say, experiences.
I'm still sursprised when I realize: oh, t h a t happened t h e n too? все какие-то обрывки, обрывки. тяжело увидеть, что они часть одного, ну там, одеяла. письмо помогает. или мешает. не знаю.
простите за беспорядочность...я пишу сейчас что-то другое...плохо выходит, мучительно. не знаю, когда поставлю. в любом случае -надеюсь, Вы получите рассылку
I recognize so much of what you are describing!
💫🩵
Thank you, Eugene -it feels less lonely
Thank you for reading
Did you end up with a good looking nose? To say that sounds like a painful time would be a great understatement. We in the west cannot comprehend, I sitting here in my cabin in Colorado, cannot get my head around all this. By the way, do you write in your language and then translate it?
What to tell you, the nose was straight before and straight for some time after but then it became less straight, it's really tempting to say "it's because of this! because of this!" but then I look at my family photos ..nah. It's because of them))
No, I write in English. I know, it's bad. I try to doublecheck, and whatnot. Still bad. I'd have much easier time here if I'd be writing in my native language. I think. Or maybe not.
Thank you for reading, Weston, I'm amazed you have the patience. Really. At some point, I lost mine, and decided that I'm not posting it. Oh well.
Those stories of yours have a real power, like the kind from my grandfather who, at 7 years old, shot a coyote about to eat his baby brother sleeping in the bassinet. That world does not exist in this country anymore but it does in your childhood and mine.
💫
I have never seen you yet know that with or without a plaster covering your whole face, you are SO incredibly beautiful. Sigh. These words are soul beauty. Thankyou for making a picture with them.
oh my god. you're so kind. it's...thank you.
(I know, it's long established, that I have no words. but it is truth. I don't)
🪄🤍
Chen. Your words are the playwrights that creates many roles. The words speak in a language of rhythmic beats. The stage is set. Alone your nose was broken by a snowball that eventually melted and you held the fort while your’ friends’ left you.
Take another snowball, roll it in wet snow. Let each snow flake be a word to build a castle-fort and every snowball shot, written from your hand will reach their mark. Someone will understand and even an audience of one will be amazed to see or read your play of words.
Thank you, Richard
...🩵
we stayed friends I recalled. still in touch.
you've given me a gift. really. thank you
I am always caught up in Chen’s telling of her stories!
oh. thank you so much, Paul
..big thank you for the restack, Sandra✨
You're made out of pure gold, Chen.
🤍💫🪄
But what a terrible thing is to perform surgery without anesthetics, and on children! And the fact that you and the other girls had to keep down that poor little boy, such boundless rudeness, the total lack of regard, the cruelty of it all.
I completely agree, that second one was an epitomy of terrible. Shouldn't be a doctor. Shouldn't be let anywhere near kids.
The first surgeon, the one who was operating on me, was actually good...just an elderly guy knowing what he's doing, no streaks of cruelty.
They just didn't "spend" anesthesia on us, during such surgeries. Beats me why. Was it shortage? Was it some rule, that unless one gets cut open they don't use anesthesia? What if I did move? It was really hard not to. One moves-complications. What if our fingers slipped while holding that poor boy's head? Don't know.
Obviously all procedures and root canals also didn't include any anesthesia.
Dear Portia. you're too kind 💕
big thank you for the restack
No snowflake can be as beautiful as you, my dear Chen. 🖤
💜🪄
I love your stories, Chen, I love the way they move back and forth in time. 🙏😊
🤍🪶
I enjoy your cadence in English. Though I studied Russian for two years, I could never write in that language. When reading your work I hear my good friend Pavel, who is having some "difficulties" in Czech Republic right now. Keep writing.
Thank you so much, Chris.
I'll try to
so good...
Thank you so much, Philip. Thank you
Sorry, I am so late. Чехов считал, Краткость- сестра таланта. Еще о нем: в его пьесах никогда ничего не меняется, вспомни его пьесы. Твой рассказ состоит из 2 частей. 1-ая- общее ироническое описание империи. И это хорошо. От абстрактной империи ты переходишь к конкретному эпизоду детства, варварства врача и т.д. Ты так ошеломляешь читателя жестокостью, что он(и)уже забыл (и) твой рассказ об империи, и твоя ирония пропала. Тебе не надо так распыляться, мне кажется. You have a talent not only as a poet.
Мой прадед крепко дружил с Чеховым до самой его безвременной кончины. В отличие от некоторых других персонажей, ничего кроме любви и восхищения к нему не испытывал. Антон Павлович был чудеснейшим человеком и велким писателем, но увы, довольно рано покинул наш мир. Доживи он хотя бы до возраста госпожи Хен Рафаэли, может быть тоже научился бы писать как она. Не только удивительно точно и широко, но и динамично, связывая воедино на первый взгляд, разнородные явления. То что Вам, уважаемая госпожа Римерман, показалось распылением, на самом деле просто сведённые вместе разные проявления одного и того же состояния человечества. И поведение империи, и поведение врачей, и даже решения учителей и воспитателей по детскому кастингу, происходят от одного корня - пренебрежение к чувствам, боли, слезам и крови отдельного человека. Ну мы все можем привести миллион примеров этого. Как говорил Луи Пастер, когда б вы знали сколько всего растёт из сора. Не ведая стыда - нет стыда у империи, нет его и у врачихи в свежепостиранном халате. Да и у мальчишек со снежками тоже нет.
This is so funny: Доживи он (Чехов, как я понимаю) хотя бы до возраста госпожи Хен Рафаэли, может быть научился бы писать как она. Т.е. гений госпожи Рафаэли гораздо выше Чеховского... Это что, фельетон, анекдот?
It is funny)) Все, что у меня обшего с гениями- это что злодейство несовместно. И то. Уверенности нет.
я даже не знаю, что сказать. кроме того что Вы потрясающе необъективны и слишком ко мне добры?
and-Chekhov was also younger than me??
"король воскликнул "господи" и снова лег в кровать"
it's really hard to concentrate right now. I'd say "oh I'll get back later to answer promptly" but maybe I'll be stuck in "hard to concentrate" for a long time.
Dear Larisa, nothing to be sorry about -I appreciate so much your comments, always. I'm grateful you found the time to read and comment.
I remember the plays, Chekhov is one of my most favorite writers. That's what I meant- ничего не меняется...
You're right, of course, as it's not a story per se -it's part-story, part-rant. To me, the first part is so much more cruel...I hoped the readers will find something more uplifting in my story about my nose. The nose was fixed after all. худо-бедно.
That year, when I was 12, was, looking back, full of very different, as they say, experiences.
I'm still sursprised when I realize: oh, t h a t happened t h e n too? все какие-то обрывки, обрывки. тяжело увидеть, что они часть одного, ну там, одеяла. письмо помогает. или мешает. не знаю.
простите за беспорядочность...я пишу сейчас что-то другое...плохо выходит, мучительно. не знаю, когда поставлю. в любом случае -надеюсь, Вы получите рассылку
🩵
Everything is fine. Your story is fine, We are all enjoying your story. You are very a good poet and shouldn't worry about anything.
...thank you so much for the restack, Vanya Bagaev
thank you very much for the restack, Maurice Clive Bisby