By Sybille Bedford
Starting in 1956 with the e-book of A Legacy, Sybille Bedford has narrated - in fiction and non-fiction - what has been by way of turns her sensuous, harrowing, altogether impressive existence. during this significant memoir, she strikes from Berlin in the course of the nice warfare to the artists' set at the Côte d'Azur of the Nineteen Twenties, via enthusiasts, mentors, seducers and buddies, and from genteel but shabby poverty to relative convenience in London's Chelsea. even if evoking the easy sumptuousness of a home-cooked meal or tracing the heart-rending define of an intimate betrayal, she deals spellbinding reflections on how historical past imprints itself on deepest lives.
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Extra resources for Quicksands: A Memoir
Crow yana mangan-mangan walangkarra, munu yirrinama wire, ngakamarna palalu wire-lu kulpanya parnpirni. ’ ‘Parnpirninyala piinyjilu’, wurrarnanganaku. Munu yirrinama piinyji. Palaku windmill-ku ngaju miranu, piinyjijartiny pala windmill. Munu wurranamarnala, katukarna ngapaku maninyaku paliny palaji yana mangan-mangan. Palanga mayi nganayirni supper. Palaja supper-ja yanayirni, warrukarti now. Wirlarranga wirlarra kanka. Murtuka pala light-majirri palapali mirtalu tukulu jipanikinyi murtuka. Munu watayanama.
Yawarta jarlingajilaman kangkulumintipulu Mangkamangka Purnungurraralu pijukarti’. Yija, ngalypa yawartaku jarlingijinaku miranujarrinyirna, munu pungkamarna mirtija. Karntinyakurlarla ngunjunikinyirna marrngulu karntijinikinyinyi. Munu walyja karntimarna yawartanga marrngumajirringi. Yawarta kanganyikinyirna murrurlakarti, yawarta martungu wararrjinikinyirni, karntikinyirnili yawartanga yanikinyirni, palajun. Mungkakarti kanganyikinyirna mungka jurrkanikinyirna karntikinyirni palajun, mintipikarti kanganyikinyirna karntikinyirnili yawartanga jurrkanikinyirna yawarta raminy marntiku yaninyaku.
The next morning we continued to the east following a creek bed until it turned into a larger creek, Marlajarri (Mt Edgar Creek), in the east. We stopped there and waited for my father, who’d gone hunting. When he returned he was carrying some goannas. My two mothers collected firewood and cooked them in the ashes, then we took them out and ate them. Then we noticed columns of clouds and thunderheads building up all around us, and it started raining heavily. We hurried back, but already the rain was pouring down.