A humming as of bees, distant.
– But the Master, Eleazer son of Eleazer, in his commentary of 1611 said –
– That Akhiba, may his name shine in glory, had been mistaken –
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‘No. Listen to me. God's confidence in Abraham was not total. Let me hammer out my meaning.’
A humming as of bees, distant.
– But the Master, Eleazer son of Eleazer, in his commentary of 1611 said –
– That Akhiba, may his name shine in glory, had been mistaken –
Sign in to Granta.com.
‘We meet at various points in the great swathes of the past that neither of us were alive to witness.’
Allen Bratton on a daytrip to a castle with his older boyfriend.
‘Listening to three white poets, whom I suspect are academics, talk about the state of poetry.’
Oluwaseun Olayiwola eavesdrops on an older generation.
‘I’d been dubious about his company at first.’
Sarah Moss on watching Shakespeare with her twelve-year-old son.
‘She didn’t trust us because, to her, tenants were like children.’
Kate Zambreno on negotiating with her older landlady.
‘A moment now swallowed in embarrassment, I asked a question only a young person might ask an older one.’
Lynne Tillman on trying to understand what makes a generation.
George Steiner (1929–2020) was a literary critic, essayist, philosopher, novelist and educator. His fiction is collected in a single volume, The Deeps of the Sea and Other Fiction. His books include The Death of Tragedy (Faber), After Babel (OUP) and most recently, Grammars of Creation (Faber/Yale University Press). He was appointed an Extraordinary Fellow at Churchill College, Cambridge in 1969.
More about the author →‘Papa embodied, as did every corner of our Paris home, the tenor, the prodigality and glow of Jewish-European and Central-European emancipation.’
‘Come Christmas, sounds mix and multiply. And are shot through with smells.’
‘His requests did stretch the resources, almost all-encompassing, of the sound-archive. But that is part of the game.’
‘At moments Hitler’s head brushed against Gideon’s cheek like a clump of wet leaves.’
‘There was too the challenge, as I saw it, of writing a singable English, simple and clear, that could express public themes without pomposity and private feelings without bathos.’
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