The Elephant is White

Fülszöveg

THE ELEPHANT IS WHITE
begins this way — J'
Paris in spring! Paris at night. Le Pont des Cents Bougies at 10:30 p.m. |
The Seine, sporting her diamonds like some raddled old K
dowager, flowed hopefully under the Bridge as though waiting for her gigolo to stCv - her delicately through the rhythms of the city. But the only oftx • came from a gaunt figure, an overcoated raven of despair, balai-iced on the parapet with arms outflung. And even then some busybody had to come along and pull him back.
Peter Pyke, crossing the Bridge on his way to a romantic rendezvous in the rue des Toits Tombés, grabbed at the overcoat. The Raven came away with it, picked itself up, and looked at Pete reproachfully.
"Why," it demanded, "do you interfere with my destiny?"
Pete began to feel vaguely resentful. This shabby Chaliapin with the voice of a bass singer stranded in Puccini, this Tchekov sideshow with the gaunt frame of a cossack and the lean face of a Mischa Auer, why the blighter was... Tovább

Fülszöveg

THE ELEPHANT IS WHITE
begins this way — J'
Paris in spring! Paris at night. Le Pont des Cents Bougies at 10:30 p.m. |
The Seine, sporting her diamonds like some raddled old K
dowager, flowed hopefully under the Bridge as though waiting for her gigolo to stCv - her delicately through the rhythms of the city. But the only oftx • came from a gaunt figure, an overcoated raven of despair, balai-iced on the parapet with arms outflung. And even then some busybody had to come along and pull him back.
Peter Pyke, crossing the Bridge on his way to a romantic rendezvous in the rue des Toits Tombés, grabbed at the overcoat. The Raven came away with it, picked itself up, and looked at Pete reproachfully.
"Why," it demanded, "do you interfere with my destiny?"
Pete began to feel vaguely resentful. This shabby Chaliapin with the voice of a bass singer stranded in Puccini, this Tchekov sideshow with the gaunt frame of a cossack and the lean face of a Mischa Auer, why the blighter was designed by nature to be grateful. Yet the look in his eye was definitely one of contempt.
"What right," he intoned, "have you to interfere between me and my chosen mistress? Death," he explained kindly.
Pete looked at him.
"Do you really imagine, my little man, that you can influence the final decision of a Podushkin?" He clicked his heels. "Misha Podushkin — at your service."
FARRAR & RINEHART, Inc.
On Murray Hill New York


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THE ELEPHANT IS WHITE
by
CARYL BRAHMS and S. J. SIMON
In a war-shocked world, here is healthy escape—an entertaining, hilarious, gently malicious book. One thinks of tovarich.
Caryl Brahms and S. J. Simon have chosen a fascinating background for their story. It is a small Russian cabaret in Paris with its diverting clientele of the new poof.
At the back of the premises is a club-room — the headquarters of the White Elephant Club. Its walls boast a framed regulation:
WORKERS STAY OUT!
The way in which the irresponsible White Elephants manage to reconcile their cardinal rule (Thou shalt do NO WORK) with their luxurious manner of living is the story of this delectable novel.
The story begins with Peter Pyke, on his way to keep a rendezvous with a mysterious Princess, stopping long enough to save a gaunt figure on the parapet of a Seine bridge from apparent suicide. And then follows an ingenious plot, a grinning satire, a thoroughly absorbing adventure into the farcical and the romantic.
FARRAR & RINEHART, Inc.
On Murray Hill New York Vissza