This is a 1934 short story written by a multifaceted author named Dylan Thomas. I already got acquainted with his poetry, something that I thoroughly enjoyed. But I was curious about his side as a storyteller, especially after someone recommended me his prose. It is hard for me to leave the Russo-Japanese bubble, but I am determined to explore other cultures and their literature, if only a glimpse in the form of a short story. So I have been reading some and this one is a most memorable example that urges me to read The Collected Stories.
As it usually happens with my favorite kind of narrative, action is not the main factor. By all outward appearances, we merely have three characters who take part in a very simple story, but the author endowed them with a rich symbolism that continues to intensify as the atmosphere darkens with every glance. His writing combines a variety of elements whose final product is imbued with brilliant uniqueness. A piercing lyricism is hidden behind every metaphor, every simple description.
I can't help the comparison with another short story I recently read: Once Upon a Time by Nadine Gordimer. Her stark style blended perfectly with the powerful themes she analyzed. In that case, the real element was action, through which her views on certain matters were effectively conveyed, but her more straightforward writing (at least in that short story; the first time I read something by her) didn't resonate with me as much as Dylan Thomas' so the connection was rather different. Different but real.
All in all, I enjoyed these few pages. Prose written by a poet. A delectable treat in the first month of the year, during this unforgiving summer - already longing for autumn.