Story World: Miss Brill

- The splendor of the story of the world's best creators ...

- Original creator - Kathleen Mansfield

- Introduction-Paresh diameter

- Two young girls dressed in red came and found two soldiers dressed in brown and they laughed and made pairs and walked hand in hand.

- '' This is not my letter, for a moment think that this letter is my hand, which is wrapping around you.

Kathleen Mansfield

'Varta' was created for the first time in Gujarati language. It was 100 years old last year. On this occasion, a unique celebration was held by publishing classic stories of famous creators of Gujarat in 'Gujarat Samachar'. A treasure trove of Gujarati stories received a warm response from readers. After that, it is now presented to the readers of 'Gujarat Samachar' - the splendor of the works of the world's foremost storytellers ...

(In the last issue we saw that this 'modernist' story is not told very clearly in writing. Wise readers have to understand. The heroine of the story Miss Brill lives alone. She is unmarried and getting older. The music is in full swing. The season has arrived. The number of people coming to the garden is increasing. The band's music is also loud and full of joy. Miss Brill lives alone, with no one in the family. The reader of the story has to understand that Miss Brill thinks of the elderly couple sitting on the bench around them. They don't talk to each other, they don't talk to each other, they sit like idols, as if they've come out of a small dark room, maybe even out of a closet. !

Miss Brill also talks to her fur coat, as if she were alive. Dear Little Thing! The lives of Farcott and Miss Brill are one and the same. One comes out of a box then one comes out of a small room. Furcoat keeps away from the cold. Miss Brill tries to overcome Anne's cold state of loneliness. Thus nothing happens in the story yet. The only description is of the public garden and the thoughts that come to Miss Brill's mind. Now on ..)

Part-2

The old couple sitting on the other side of the bench was sitting still, like statues. But let's face it, there are always a lot of people around in the garden that can be seen in front of you. Couples and people gathered in front of the flower beds and in front of and behind the circular part of the bandstand, as if they were exercising, stopping to talk, relaxing and meeting, the old beggars standing on the railings buying flowers from the beggars. Little boys and little girls in silk bow ties, little French dolls dressed in velvet and lace, were having fun running around, hugging and giggling under their chins. And sometimes a very naughty little boy would run after a tree and suddenly come to a halt, stare at everyone, stare at everyone with wide eyes and sit down, until Annie's mother, like a young hen running to take care of her chicks, was annoyed behind her. Don't run and keep taking it from there.

The others were sitting on the benches and on the green chairs, but they were almost the same, one Sunday after another, the third after Sunday અને and Miss Brill's observation that nothing was strange, almost in between. They were weird, quiet, and old-fashioned, and they stared at each other as if they'd just come out of a dark little room, or maybe out of a closet!

Behind the circular space of the band playing were slender trees with its yellow leaves, and across them was a beach, and then a blue sky with golden veined clouds.

Tum-tum-tum tidal-um! Tidal-um! Tum tedley-um tum ta! The band began to play music.

Two young girls dressed in red came and found two soldiers dressed in brown and they laughed and paired up and walked hand in hand. Two peasant women, dressed in strange-looking hats, passed by solemnly, followed by beautiful donkeys of smoke-like color. An indifferent Benur nun passed quickly. A beautiful woman was walking with him and a bunch of purple flowers fell out of his hand and a little boy came running from somewhere, he handed the flowers to the woman, and he took them in his hand and threw them because they fell into the dust so bad . Dear me! Miss Brill didn't know how to praise or condemn this!

And now a lady wearing a white hairy coreless cape with an Armin weasel and a gentleman dressed in gray were sitting right in front of her. Pello was tall, stiff and elegant, and he wore a cap without a hairy core, the cap he had bought when his hair was yellow. Now everything, her hair, her face, her eyes also looked the same color as the dilapidated one, like Aman Noliya, and she had socks on her hands and her little paw also looked yellow when she raised her hands and put her fingers on her lips. Kill lightly. Oh, she was so happy to see him - Rajini Red! She just wanted to meet him in the afternoon. He described in detail where it had gone-every place, here, there, on the coast. The day was fun-didn't he agree? No, maybe? .. But he shook his head, lit a cigarette, took a deep breath and slowly left the smoke on the lady's face, while she was still talking and laughing, he threw down the matchbox and walked away. The lady wearing the Armin coat was now alone, her face was smiling more than before. But the band knew that it was feeling how it was feeling from the inside and the band's melody softened, a delicate and light drumming sound, 'The Burt! The Burt! ' The same tune, over and over again. What will that lady do now? What will happen now? But before Miss Brill could think of anything else, she raised her hand as if she had found someone else who was better, right there, and she walked away quickly.

The band's tune also changed again. Now it was already the same tune, the melodies of cheerful music were reverberating in the atmosphere, Miss Brill was sitting, the old couple sitting on the big bench got up and ran away, and the old man and his strangely long mustache seemed to be pulled into the stream of tunes and four very He collided with the fast moving girls and could hardly eat.

(Note: The band's tune mentions 'The Burt! The Burt!' There was no dialogue but there was music in the background. A film was released the same year called Huthuth Burt. The underworld deals with Dawn who abuses Mildred, but Herbert returns, Auntie repents, and then the same hero, heroine, and villain's well-known story, and finally the cure. The villain seems to be gone, but the lady seems to have found her old mate.

(The last part of the story in the next issue)

Introduction to the Creator

Kathleen Mansfield

Born: 19 October 19

Died: 9 January 19

Born and raised in New Zealand, Kathleen Mansfield Murray was a renowned 'Modernist' writer. Modernist in literature means a radical change in prose (and verse) literature, abandoning the old methods of storytelling in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. According to the motto of the American poet Ezra Pound, 'Make it new'. Kathleen left New Zealand under British rule when she was 16 and settled in England. Here he met the well-known literary creators d. H. Came in contact with Lawrence, Virginia Woolf, etc. They created an abundance of short stories and poems. Among his well-known stories are 'A Deal Pickle', 'Mr. And Mrs. Dove ',' The Fly 'and' The Garden Party 'are the main ones. He was diagnosed with TB when he was just 3 years old and died at the age of 8.