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500 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1996
(I must have been fifteen or sixteen years old because the new garage next to the beech trees was being built, the tractor rumbled beyond the vegetable garden, and the metal blades of the windmill creaked in the heat)
when I heard murmurs and whispers and steps in the chapel, not the sounds of chickens or turtledoves or magpies but of people, perhaps the gypsies from Azeit茫o making off with the
Virgin Mary and the carved candlesticks
(women in black skirts, men blowing on flames under coffeepots, sad scrawny mules)
and I grabbed one of the canes from the stoneware umbrella stand in the foyer and trotted across the dining room where the chandelier sprinkled glass shadows onto the tablecloth, I leapt over the flower bed with birds-of-paradise, I leapt over the petunias, the chapel door was open, the candles fluttered under the arches, but I didn鈥檛 find the Gypsies from Azeit茫o
I found the cook lying flat out on the altar, her clothes all tousled, with her apron around her neck, and my father beet red, cigarillo in his mouth and hat on his head, holding on to her hips and looking at me without anger or surprise鈥�
I never went more than two or three times to the farm in Palmela, I don鈥檛 like cows, I don鈥檛 like pigs, I don鈥檛 like the smell of manure everywhere you turn, and I didn鈥檛 like my father-in-law eyeing me from head to toe as if he鈥檇 never seen me, as if I hadn鈥檛 already been his daughter-in-law for ten years
鈥淎 skinny hothead without hips, you don鈥檛 know how to pick out a heifer, Jo茫o鈥�
eyeing me without the slightest hesitation, shame, or scruple, indifferent to the housekeeper, to the maids, to our kids, and to the broad with a lapdog who sat next to him on the sofa, a sinister, incredibly tacky broad in her fifties, dressed up at five in the afternoon as if for a baptismal ceremony in Alg茅s or some other nouveau-riche suburb, the widow of a small-town pharmacist or civil servant who liked to call me dear and touch my arm when she talked to me, I hate to be touched, and the old broad would grab my arm鈥�