Летящие сквозь ночь солнечные странники
Apr. 26th, 2008 03:46 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
chyyrПопался мне на глаза нечитанный рассказ Артура Порджеса "Ценный товар"
Попался, прочитался, понравился.
Только возникла у меня мысль: я ведь этих Солнечных Странников из рассказа Порджеса уже встречал. У Джорджа Мартина, в "Летящих сквозь ночь". Один к одному, только с точностью до наоборот ;)
Теперь вот гадаю: мы имеем дело с конвергентной эволюцией, или С-2 просочились от Порджеса к Мартину?
PS Вообще, "Летящие сквозь ночь" мне в свое время весьма понравились :) Несмотря на некоторую свойственную Мартину мешанину жанров.
GEORGE MARTIN. NIGHTFLYERS.
When Jesus of Nazareth hung dying on his cross, the volcryn passed within a lightyear of his agony, headed outward. When the Fire Wars raged on Earth, the volcryn sailed near Old Poseidon, where the seas were still unnamed and unfished. By the time the stardrive had transformed the Federated Nations of Earth into the Federal Empire, the volcryn had moved into the fringes of Hrangan space. The Hrangans never knew it. Like us they were children of the small bright worlds that circled their scattered suns, with little interest and less knowledge of the things that moved in the gulfs between. War flamed for a thousand years and the volcryn passed through it, unknowing and untouched, safe in a place where no fires could ever burn. Afterwards the Federal Empire was shattered and gone, and the Hrangans vanished in the dark of the Collapse, but it was no darker for the volcryn.
When Kleronomas took his survey ship out from Avalon, the volcryn came within ten lightyears of him. Kleronomas found many things, but he did not find the volcryn. Not then did he and not on his return to Avalon a lifetime later.
When I was a child of three, Kleronomas was dust, as distant and dead as Jesus of Nazareth and the volcryn passed close to Daronne. That season all the Crey sensitives grew strange and sat staring at the stars with luminous, flickering eyes.
When I was grown, the volcryn had sailed beyond Tara, past the range of even the Crey, still heading outward.
And now I am old and the volcryn will soon pierce the Tempter's Veil where it hangs like a black mist between the stars. And we follow, we follow. Through the dark gulfs where no one goes, through the emptiness, through the silence that goes on and on, my Nightflyer and I give chase.
PS Кстати, о Мартине: недавно дочитал "Feast for Crows". Теперь нахожусь в недоумении: почему товарищ затягивает с обещанным продолжением?
Попался, прочитался, понравился.
Только возникла у меня мысль: я ведь этих Солнечных Странников из рассказа Порджеса уже встречал. У Джорджа Мартина, в "Летящих сквозь ночь". Один к одному, только с точностью до наоборот ;)
Теперь вот гадаю: мы имеем дело с конвергентной эволюцией, или С-2 просочились от Порджеса к Мартину?
PS Вообще, "Летящие сквозь ночь" мне в свое время весьма понравились :) Несмотря на некоторую свойственную Мартину мешанину жанров.
GEORGE MARTIN. NIGHTFLYERS.
When Jesus of Nazareth hung dying on his cross, the volcryn passed within a lightyear of his agony, headed outward. When the Fire Wars raged on Earth, the volcryn sailed near Old Poseidon, where the seas were still unnamed and unfished. By the time the stardrive had transformed the Federated Nations of Earth into the Federal Empire, the volcryn had moved into the fringes of Hrangan space. The Hrangans never knew it. Like us they were children of the small bright worlds that circled their scattered suns, with little interest and less knowledge of the things that moved in the gulfs between. War flamed for a thousand years and the volcryn passed through it, unknowing and untouched, safe in a place where no fires could ever burn. Afterwards the Federal Empire was shattered and gone, and the Hrangans vanished in the dark of the Collapse, but it was no darker for the volcryn.
When Kleronomas took his survey ship out from Avalon, the volcryn came within ten lightyears of him. Kleronomas found many things, but he did not find the volcryn. Not then did he and not on his return to Avalon a lifetime later.
When I was a child of three, Kleronomas was dust, as distant and dead as Jesus of Nazareth and the volcryn passed close to Daronne. That season all the Crey sensitives grew strange and sat staring at the stars with luminous, flickering eyes.
When I was grown, the volcryn had sailed beyond Tara, past the range of even the Crey, still heading outward.
And now I am old and the volcryn will soon pierce the Tempter's Veil where it hangs like a black mist between the stars. And we follow, we follow. Through the dark gulfs where no one goes, through the emptiness, through the silence that goes on and on, my Nightflyer and I give chase.
PS Кстати, о Мартине: недавно дочитал "Feast for Crows". Теперь нахожусь в недоумении: почему товарищ затягивает с обещанным продолжением?
