[ilds] Gerald Durrell

Richard Pine rpinecorfu at yahoo.com
Wed Feb 16 01:20:08 PST 2011

As there has been some slight discussion of the relative merits of LD and GD as 
writers, members of this group might like to see the following by GD:

'In the Theatre [Prose poem]'
They brought him in on a stretcher, starched and white, every stitch of it 
showing hospital work. They slid him on to the cold stone table. He was dressed 
in pyjamas and jacket, his face looked as if it was carved out of cuttlefish. A 
student fidgeted, someone coughed, huskily, uneasily. The doctor looked up 
sharply at the new nurse; she was white as marble, twisting a blue lace 
handkerchief in her butterfly-like hands.

The scalpel whispered as if it were cutting silk, showing the intestines coiled 
up heatly [sic] like watchsprings. The doctor's hands moved with the speed of a 
striking snake, cutting, fastening, probing. At last, a pinkish-grey thing like 
a sausage came out in the scorpion-like grip of the pincers. Then the sewing-up, 
the needle burying itself in the soft depth and appearing on the other side of 
the abyss, drawing the skin together like a magnet. The stretcher groaned at the 
sudden weight.

This was published in The Booster, 1937. GD was 12 years old. 


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