twenty-two before 22
i’m reading 22 books before my 22nd birthday—in three monthsArchive for novel
#6 of 22
Night (1958)
by Elie Wiesel
Novel
112 pages
Beginning:
“They called him Moishe the Beadle, as if his entire life he had never had a surname,” (3).
Somewhere in the middle, I began to weep:
“The darkness eveloped us. All i could hear was the violin, and it was as if Juliek’s soul had become his bow. He was playing his life. His whole being was gliding over the strings. His unfulfilled hopes. His charred past, his extinguished future. He played that which he would never play again.
I shall never forget Juliek. How could I forget this concert given before an audience of the dead and dying? Even today, when I hear that particular piece by Beethoven, my eyes close and out of the darkness emerges the pale and melancholy face of my Polish comrade bidding farewell to an audience of dying men.
I don’t know how long he played. I was overcome by sleep. When I awoke at daybreak, I saw Juliek facing me, hunched over, dead. Next to him lay his violin, trampled, an eerily poignant little corpse,” (95).
End:
“One day when I was able to get up, I decided to look at myself in the mirror on the opposite wall. I had not seen myself since the ghetto.
From the depths of the mirror, a corpse was contemplating me.
The look in his eyes as he gazed at me has never left me,” (115).
#4 of 22
Miss Lonelyhearts (1933)
by Nathanael West
Novel
58 pages
Beginning:
“The Miss Lonelyhearts of the New York Post-Dispatch (Are you in trouble?—Do-you-need-advice?—Write-to-Miss-Lonelyhearts-and-she-will-help-you) sat at his desk and stared at a piece of white cardboard,” (1).
Somewhere in the middle:
“The whisky was good and he felt warm and sure. Through the light-blue tobacco smoke, the mahogany bar shone like wet gold. The glasses and bottles, their high lights exploding, rand like a battery of little bells when the bartender touched them together,” (15).
End:
“The cripple turned to escape, but he was too close and Miss Lonelyhearts caught him.
While they were struggling, Betty came in through the street door. She called to them to stop and started up the stairs. The cripple saw her cutting off his escape and tried to get rid of the package. He pulled his hand out. The gun inside the package exploded and Miss Lonelyhearts fell, dragging the cripple with him. They both rolled part of the way down the stairs,” (58).
