A Scandinavian Prince, Breakan, fell in love with a Princess of the Island, whose father consented to the marriage, on condition that Breakan should show his skill and courage by anchoring his boat for three days and three nights in the whirlpool.
Breakan accepted the challenge and returned to Norway, where he had three cables made… one of hemp, one of wool and one from maidens’ hair. The women of Norway willingly cut off their hair and plaited the rope. It was believed that the purity and innocence of the maidens would give the rope strength to stand the strain.
Breakan returned and anchored in the whirlpool. On the first day the hemp rope parted, but they survived the night. On the second day, the woollen rope parted in a strong wind, but they survived the night again.
On the last day they set the plaited cable of hair and all went well until a gale of wind broke the rope. The boat was sucked under by the currents and a surviving crewman and Breakan’s dog dragged the body of Breakan ashore – he was buried in the King’s Cave.

Ilíada e Ardil 22

Several years ago, while teaching a graduate seminar in war literature which included The Iliad and Catch 22, I noted what I felt to be significant thematic resemblances between the two works. My curiosity was suficiently aroused that I wrote to the late Joseoh Heller and asked him if it were possible that Iliad couldContinuar lendo “Ilíada e Ardil 22”

Catch 22: Ilíada de Homero – Livro XXIV

Findos os jogos dispersam-se todos; os Dánaos guerreiros às suas naus recolhidos cuidavam somente da ceia e de ao repouso entregar-se. O Pelida no entanto chorava o companheiro dilecto a virar-se dum lado para outro sem pelo sono que a todos domina sentir-se vencido. Lembra-lhe a força de Pátroclo a ingente e provada coragem bemContinuar lendo “Catch 22: Ilíada de Homero – Livro XXIV”

Gente foda usa tapa-olho: James Joyce

Trovejou Polifemo: “Encheu-se o agouro Ah! de Telemo Eurímides, profeta. Que envelheceu famoso entre os Ciclopes! Apagar-se-me a vista às mãos de Ulisses Vaticinou-me: um forte e ingente e belo Varão sempre cuidei que Ulisses fosse; Mas, falso embriagando-me, a pupila Furou-me um pífio imbele e pequenino! Hóspede, eis os presentes, vem tomá-los; Meu genitorContinuar lendo “Gente foda usa tapa-olho: James Joyce”