See the picture.
‘What does it say? What does it say?’ But he won’t read it aloud.
‘I need time to consider it. Let me be alone, Mother.’
He is so young to know so much, to have to work out such hard language. Why can the monks not tell us: ‘Yes you can go on living in this house’ or ‘No you must move far away from your friends and all who care for you.’
‘Have you read it Ivo? Have you read it?’
He waves his hand at me and turns so I cannot see the paper. He reads a little aloud in Latin. His masters always said his Latin was so weak. ‘Ivo, let’s get Laurent to read it – he’s a real lawyer. He would understand it. He could say if it was ‘yes’ or ‘no’ right away.’
‘Mother, be quiet. I’ve studied three years to do this.’ He turns back to the page and draws together his brows, just as he used to do as a child when he couldn’t understand his lessons.
‘Ivo, let me see.’
‘Mother, you can’t read.’
‘Ivo, I’m sure Laurent…’
‘Mother, please. Go back to your room and let me read this in peace.’
Wicked boy – how can he dismiss me, his own mother, so? How can he?
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4 comments:
Bravo! I forgot how fun it is to write fiction or poetry using art as the subject and inspiration. I need to go back and try some of that again.... Thanks for the reminder, the post, and the link to the gallery! Hope to produce a poem sometime in the next month or so.
Luxurious Choices -- let me know if you publish it, and I could link to you.
Thanks! I've just started it....the subject is Velazquez's "Kitchen Scene"
http://www.nationalgallery.org.uk/collection/features/puzzling/Velazquez.htm
That's a good choice. Very intriguing. Here is a link to it, as the address got cut off in your comment.
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