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Garry Nurrish this site is best viewed with ms internet explorer and a screen res. of 800x600 | | Reviews & Non Fiction LONGING FOR BLOOD, by Vilma Kadleckova (translated by Martin Klima and Bruce Sterling)
Once, several years ago, I visited my father's house on a day when he was entertaining a Czechoslovakian scientist (my dad is an entomologist). This foreigner had brought with him an incredible elixir: a bottle of honey mead. The bottle itself was an exotic object—wicker brocade surrounded it like a forest of vines, while the red wax seal with its imprinted letters in a foreign alphabet intrigued me even more...
Click here for more... ENGLAND = NIRVANA? : Jeff Takes a Holiday
So the plane trip there was hell, of course: the cramped close quarters, the lunging, awkward leap to make it to the aisle past bruised knees and then to the toilet; the cold air on the face which both relieves the heated closeness and makes your nose run; the "moist toilette" unfolded three rows down which, like a perfume sample in a glossy magazine, coats the blue-tinted air with a cloying mist of noxious particles...
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