Subject: Wind on the Summit
From: Paul Miller (phm@midsouth.rr.com)
Date: Fri Apr 07 2000 - 13:56:01 EDT
I was reading one of the introductions to Tolstoy's books, I think it was
Anna K. and there was a couple of quotes from the man himselk on W&P and
Anna K..
Apparently after W&P Tolstoy learned greek and read Homer in the original.
After this he commented that he would never write such wordy trash as W&P
again. Two years after he wrote Anna K. someone was asking him about the
novel and he said don't even speak about that abomination. ???
Winded I arrived at base camp, not planning on making the trip myself of
course, but looking through my field glasses on up towards the summit. SB ,a
tilter at windmills, had wound his way from base camp some time ago and I
had been sent out by my company,GW, to see if I could wind out a scent or
trace of him. Huddling in my windbreaker I could make out nothing except
snow and clouds on up the slope. Yet occasionally I could, just for a
second, through a window in the clouds, make out a peak I took for the
summit.
Could it be that our climber had made it to the summit and was so stricken
with the beauty of this windfall that his voice was muted, one as windy as
he? Such heights have been known to challenge a mans mind with a panorama so
awesome that his mind suddenly impressed with the smallness of humankind's
pursuits and strivings comes unwound. Yes this could explain his failure to
unwind his tale to our company, GW.
Just in the short time I have been here at Base camp, the wind whipping from
all directions at once and a quite depressing wind chill factor even here, I
have seen several climbers come back ,wound down, after making only a little
progress up the slope. Is it possible that this too could have been our
beloved windbag's fate? To make it so far and exhausted leave the trail that
winds to the summit or maybe called off on other errands to depart to return
again.
SB could still be winding his way to the summit. Or maybe he is up there
still, frozen into a block of ice, a windsock and a caveat to other
climbers. These thoughts wrap about me as the wind around my head. I lower
my field glasses and squint into the wind towards the summit hoping to not
have need of a winding sheet.
Paul
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