(no subject)

[elinorwise]

Mike
had been called far worse; while hall-monitoring, I’d heard
him called Bohunk Mike, George of the Jungle, and Godzilla.
He laughed the nicknames off. That amused, even
absentminded reaction to slurs and japes may be the
greatest gift height and size conveys on large boys, and at
six-seven and two-seventy, Mike made me look like Mickey
Rooney.

Mike’s reading of
Lennie had been the farthest thing in the world from funny.
What it had been was a goddam revelation. I would have
used an electric cattle prod to keep him in the room, if that’s
what it took, but of course there was no need of such
extreme measures. Want to know the best thing about
teaching? Seeing that moment when a kid discovers his or
her gift. There’s no feeling on earth like it. Mike knew his
teammates would make fun of him, but he took the part
anyway. I cast some of the
other football players as townspeople, but I meant to have
Mike as Lennie from the moment he opened his mouth and
said, “I remember about the rabbits, George!”

He became Lennie. He hijacked not just your eyes—
because he was so damn big—but the heart in your chest.
You forgot everything else, the way people forgot their
everyday cares when Jim LaDue faded back to throw a pass.
Mike might have been built to crash the opposing line in
humble obscurity, but he had been made—by God, if there
is such a deity; by a roll of the genetic dice if there is not—to
stand on a stage and disappear into someone else.

Помню, когда я читала Дьюма-Ки, то не могла отделаться от того чтобы представлять в роли Джека Кантори - Джесси Айзенберга.
Теперь я знаю, кто должен был сыграть Майка Кослоу.
Надо признать, это добавляет удовольствию от книги особый оттенок))
Оригинал записи на Дыбре