A Table of Green Fields Read Online Free PDF

Ariel naked?
    —He was a spirit of the air. Like an angel.
    Nikolai thought about this, guppying his coffee and sprucing the fit of his foreskin.
    —Angels wear lots of clothes. Bible clothes. Steen and Stoffer are neat today, did you see? I'll bet this Ariel you're copying me for had pure thoughts and never a hard on, right? There was a Steen and Stoffer where Steen sees monkeys in the zoo jacking off and he says O gross! and his mom and pop are suddenly interested in showing him the cockatoos and toucans. Parents.
    —What a face, Gunnar said, running his fingers over his cast of Bourdelle's study of Herakles. The model was Doyen-Parigot, military bloke. Physical fitness enthusiast. Used to arrive on his horse at Bourdelle's in full soldierly fig.
    —Looks like an opossum, wouldn't you say?

Punktum punktum,
komma, streg!
Sudan tegnes
Nikolaj!
 
Arme, ben,
og mave stor.
Sadan kom han
til vor jord.
     
    —Killed at Verdun. You make Edith glance heavenward when you twitch your piddler. Christian Brother from the Faeroes she is, you know. Though I once had a girl model who played with herself as liberally as you, and as unconcerned for convention, and Edith rather took to leaning around the door to see, in passing.
    —What's Verdun? You know Mikkel, the redhead kid, my pal, with terminal freckles and chipmunk teeth? His dad is all for his doing it every day. Says it keeps him happy.
    —Verdun was a terrible battle in the First World War. Is Mikkel's daddy Ulf Tidselfnug? Break's over: back at it.
    —Do you know him? He prints books. It's fun to go to Mikkel's, where, if we stay in his room, we can do anything we want to, and Mikkel's always answering the door in nothing  but a T-shirt and wrunkled socks. His mom says that if he turns himself into an idiot how would you notice?
    —O pure innocent Danish youth!
    Questioning eyes.
    —Teasing the model, Samantha said, is Gunnar's way of relating. You'll get used to it. Besides, you can tease him back. Gunnar's jealous, anyway.
     
TREE HOUSE
     
    —How old is this Gunnar?
    —He's had a rabbit, a Belgian hare I think it is, in a show, and a naked girl holding one leg by the ankle in another. He did those at the Academy, and then he was in Paris for a year. He was seventeen when he went to the Academy, that's four years, and Paris was just a couple of years back, so he's like twenty-four, yuss? Outsized whacker in his jeans.
    —The bint's there all the time?
    —Oh no, very busy girl, Samantha. She comes and goes. Spends the night a lot, too, I think.
4
    —Brancusi's Torso of a Boy, there. My Ariel is to be as pure as that, but with all of you there, representational, as the critics say, thugs, the lot of them.
    Nikolai tugged his foreskin into a snugger fit.
    —It leks, and it doesn't, you know?
    —The thighs make it a boy, and the hips the same girth as the chest. But further than that, in style, you can't go. Gaudier, here, had the genius of the age. Killed in the First World War, only 24. That's his bust of the poet Pound, and that's his Red Dancer.
    —Real brainy is what I'm getting a reputation for, even at home. Would Brancusi have used a model, some French soccer player? He could at least have put in a navel. I'll have my pecker and toms, won't I, as Ariel?
    —Shakespeare would insist. He liked well-designed boys and approved of nature.
    —I'll bet. Did Brancusi?
    —Brancusi's private life is unknown. I think he simply worked, sawing and polishing and chiselling. He did his own cooking. There was a white dog named Polar.
    —What would an Ariel by him have looked like?
5
    Commandant Nikolai Doyen-Parigot rode his white charger Washington among Peugeots and Citroens to Antoine Bourdelle's studio. Tying Washington to a parking meter, he strode inside. Bourdelle was in his smock. A boy was mixing modelling clay in a tub. Amidst life-size casts of Greek statues Nikolai Doyen-Parigot took off his uniform, handing it piece by piece,