Buon anno nuovo!
Iniziamo il 2018 con una rubrica che adoro perché mi piace lasciarvi piccoli estratti ogni settimana. Sto rileggendo “La Bussola d’Oro” in inglese per prepararmi alla lettura de “Il libro della Polvere”. Ho pensato di leggerli in lingua questa volta visto che la trilogia l’avevo letta in italiano anni e anni fa. Per non annoiarmi troppo e per cambiare un po’ ho deciso di cambiare la lingua.
Voi con che lettura avete iniziato l’anno?
She did sleep, finally, though Pantalaimon wouldn’t settle until she snapped at him, when he became a hedgehog out of pique. It was still dark when someone shook her awake.
«Lyra—hush—don’t start—wake up, child.»
It was Mrs. Lonsdale. She was holding a candle, and she bent over and spoke quietly, holding Lyra still with her free hand.
«Listen. The Master wants to see you before you join Mrs. Coulter for breakfast. Get up quickly and run across to the lodging now. Go into the garden and tap at the French window of the study. You understand?»
Fully awake and on fire with puzzlement, Lyra nodded and slipped her bare feet into the shoes Mrs. Lonsdale put down for her.
«Never mind washing—that’ll do later. Go straight down and come straight back. I’ll start your packing and have something for you to wear. Hurry now.»
The dark quadrangle was still full of the chill night air. Overhead the last stars were still visible, but the light from the east was gradually soaking into the sky above the Hall. Lyra ran into the Library Garden, and stood for a moment in the immense hush, looking up at the stone pinnacles of the chapel, the pearl-green cupola of the Sheldon Building, the white-painted lantern of the Library. Now that she was going to leave these sights, she wondered how much she’d miss them.
Something stirred in the study window and a glow of light shone out for a moment. She remembered what she had to do and tapped on the glass door. It opened almost at once.
«Good girl. Come in quickly. We haven’t got long,» said the Master, and drew the curtain back across the door as soon as she had entered. He was fully dressed in his usual black.
«Aren’t I going after all?» Lyra asked.
«Yes; I can’t prevent it,» said the Master, and Lyra didn’t notice at the time what an odd thing that was to say. «Lyra, I’m going to give you something, and you must promise to keep it private. Will you swear to that?»
«Yes,» Lyra said.
He crossed to the desk and took from a drawer a small package wrapped in black velvet. When he unfolded the cloth, Lyra saw something like a large watch or a small clock: a thick disk of gold and crystal. It might have been a compass or something of the sort.
«What is it?» she said.
«It’s an alethiometer. It’s one of only six that were ever made. Lyra, I urge you again: keep it private. It would be better if Mrs. Coulter didn’t know about it. Your uncle—»
«But what does it do?»
«It tells you the truth. As for how to read it, you’ll have to learn by yourself. Now go—it’s getting lighter—hurry back to your room before anyone sees you.»
He folded the velvet over the instrument and thrust it into her hands. It was surprisingly heavy. Then he put his own hands on either side of her head and held her gently for a moment.Chapter 4- THE GOLDEN COMPASS di Philip Pullman
