Fiver: There's something very queer about the warren this evening...
Hazel: Is it dangerous?
Fiver: It's not exactly danger, it's... oh, I don't know. Something oppressive... like thunder.
Fiver: I feel it too. It seems like everyone who was nice has left the garden. All the brightly colored birds. The badger. That happy frisky gay otter. Even the blogging cockroach.
Hazel: Well I think the lady is getting strange. She is muttering to herself and playing her old records. The only ones left seem to be the slugs and the vermin. They just keep talking their disgusting talk. That only leaves a few of us, the rabbits.
Fiver: Yes. But the garden is comfortable. I don't know if we can move the warren. That would be very dangerous.
Hazel: I know. But sometimes you have to move on and get to a new place. Maybe it can be a better place.
Fiver: Bigwig heard her talking. Good riddance she said as she threw all that garbage out on her front step. I think that is what is attracting all this vermin.
Hazel: Some people call us vermin.
Fiver: Some people are stupid.
(Watership Down, 1972)
Monday, June 30, 2008
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2 comments:
Heh.
It's satire.
Maybe. Or allegory.
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