Leben[ Bearbeiten Quelltext bearbeiten ] W. Auden war der Sohn eines Arztes und einer Krankenschwester. Am bekanntesten wurde Auden als Lyriker — einige Gedichte schrieb er schon mit 13 Jahren. Daneben verfasste er eine Vielzahl an Kritiken und Essays sowie, zusammen mit seinem Freund Christopher Isherwood , den er mit 18 Jahren kennenlernte, einige Dramen zwei von Benjamin Britten vertont.
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I remember three with particular horror, one of sweet milk and hard macaroni, one tasting of hot marzipan, and one of scented hair oil. The Danes have influenced Icelandic cooking, and to no advantage. Meat is liable to be served up in glutinous and half-cold lumps, covered with tasteless gravy. At the poorer farms you will only get Hangikyrl, i. This is comparatively harmless when cold as it only tastes like soot, but it would take a very hungry man indeed to eat it hot.
We felt like the Germans invading Belgium. Nobody looked very interested. And we all felt rather heroic, I think.
Selected excerpt: "I wish I could describe things well, for a whale is the most beautiful animal I have ever seen. It combines the fascination of something alive, enormous, and gentle, with the functional beauties of modern machinery. A seventy-ton one was lying on the slip-way like a large and very dignified duchess being got ready for the ball by beetles. To see it torn to pieces with steam winches and cranes is enough to make one a vegetarian for life. The sun was out; in the bay, surrounded by buoys and gulls, were the semi-submerged bodies of five dead whales: and down the slip-way ran a constant stream of blood, staining the water a deep red for a distance of fifty yards.
Someone whistled a tune. A bell suddeny clanged and everyone stuck their spades in the carcase and went off for lunch. The body remained alone in the sun, the flesh still steaming a little.
It gave one an extraordinary vision of the cold controlled ferocity of the human species" p
Letters from Iceland
Tojashakar And the rest was scarcely better, enormous hunks of meat that might have been carved with a chopper smeared with half-cold gravy. The face that fate hangs as a figurehead Above the truncheon or the nickelled death. Auden Faber and Faber books. Apart fcom potatoes, these, in the earUer part of the summer axe conspicuous by their absence. I love the sagas, but what a rotten society they describe, a society with only the gangster virtues. Which would least likely send my letter back? Though cursed for it, I won.
W. H. Auden