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洋書ダウンロードフロア ＞Classic Literature＞Jampot Smith
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書 名 | ／ | Jampot Smith |
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| Author／Jeremy Brooks | ||||
| 発行／Parthian Books | ||||
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／ | 1037円（税込） | ||
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Jeremy Brooks
Jeremy Brooks was born in Southampton in 1926． He was educated at John Bright School in Llandudno， after being evacuated to North Wales in 1940． He enlisted in the Navy and spent time at Magdalen College， Oxford before seeing active service in the Mediterranean． After the war he studied Stage Design at the Camberwell School of Art． He moved back to North Wales in 1953 with his wife， the painter Eleanor Brooks， where they rented a cottage on the estate of Clough Williams Ellis at Llanfrothen． They would have four children． To support himself while writing fiction he occasionally worked as a wine waiter in the restaurant at the Portmeirion Hotel and was later to write a novel， The Water Carnival （1957）， satirising the Italianate village． Jampot Smith was published in 1960， Henry&#{};s War in 1962 and Smith as Hero in 1964．
He later embarked on a theatrical career， which included a period as the literary manager of the Royal Shakespeare Company with Peter Hall from 1962 to 1969． He was responsible， with Kitty Hunter-Blair， for a number of ground-breaking adaptations of plays by Russian dramatists including Maxim Gorky and Nikolai Gogol． An adaptation of The Government Inspector， in which Paul Scofield starred， was particularly well received． He worked extensively for theatre， television and radio producing many original works and adaptations including （with Adrian Mitchell）， a version of Dylan Thomas&#{};s A Child&#{};s Christmas in Wales． He also wrote poetry， children&#{};s books and worked extensively with Theatr Clywd at Mold， producing a notable adaptation of Medea． He was renowned for helping the careers and development of younger writers and was a founder member of the Theatre Writers&#{}; Union．
His last published work was a collection of short stories， entitled Doing the Voices （1986）． He died in 1994．
’Jampot Smith’ is story of a group of friends as they edge towards adulthood in the sunshine and shadow of Llandudno during the years of the Second World War． For Bernard， the eponymous Jampot Smith， Kathy， Epsom and Dewi it is all held in an exquisite balance of emotion and restraint that promises both love and danger． It is a time which will shape their lives against a war which will define it．
Throughout our youth in Llandudno， Gregory was ever the nasty prophet of our loves． Like a woman， he seemed to know in advance what shifts might be expected in the changing pattern of our relationships and never failed to heighten the embarrassment of any dying affair by recalling to all parties the accuracy of his earlier predictions． Yet he was himself so socially inept， so clumsy， gauche， obvious， that we regarded him as a sort of clown， placed among us as a warning of what might happen if we， too， took ourselves a little too seriously．
It was to Gregory that I owed one of the biggest setbacks in my growing interest in girls； and it was Gregory， I wryly recall， who first drew my attention to Kathy．
My usual approach to school， in those early， unsociable days when I had no friends apart from Gregory， was across the fields between the gasworks and the Links Hotel． There was a point at which I could just manage to jump the ditch which divided the fields belonging to the farmer from the school playing fields， and it was just as I was making this jump that this girl， Kathy， sprang up suddenly from behind the hedge on the other side of the ditch and bounded away towards the school． Surprised by this sudden apparition， I missed my footing on landing and slid back into the ditch， soaking one leg and staining my grey flannel trousers with the green juice of crushed grass． Cursing inexpertly， I scrambled up and chased after the girl - safe against catching her， I thought， for she had already reached the long wall by the tennis courts before I was halfway across the field．
This， I knew， was the girl referred to by Gregory， a few days earlier， when he had said ’There’s a wench in 3B yearning after you， Bernard． Quite a looker， too！’ I had myself seen her more often than might have been expected， but， until she sprang up from behind the hedge that day， had not enough conceit of myself to believe that she could have selected me， out of the scores of available boys， as the object of her attentions．
As she reached the tennis courts， that day， she disappeared behind the long wall which separated them from the playing-fields； and when I reached the corner of this wall myself I saw that she must have slowed down as soon as she was out of sight， perhaps even have dawdled， for I was now nearly on top of her． I did not know， myself， if I wanted to catch her or not， but there was now no avoiding it， and clearly no doubt in her mind． As she reached the school door she paused and stood as， since， I have often seen her stand： as if poised for flight： one foot on tiptoe， her body bent forward supported by a hand against the corner of the wall， her head turned over her shoulder to look at me． Very quietly， as if she hardly dare speak aloud， she said ’I hope you didn’t get too wet - Bernard！’
Then she turned and flew towards the girls’ cloakroom．
She knew my name！
After that I began to see this girl about everywhere： in the school， on the beach， outside the Library， or simply cycling quietly along， alone， down the Conway Road on some unguessable errand． She always seemed， if she were not on her bicycle， to be running． Perhaps I would be walking up to Llanrhos to buy tomatoes from the market gardener there， when suddenly this girl would appear， running away across the fields behind Bryn Maelgwyn； running， it always seemed to me， with a sort of desperate intensity which had nevertheless about it a kind of purposelessness， as if she were running because she must run， but was not running to any place in particular．
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デジタル初版：2010/01/21
初版：1970/01/01
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購入後ダウンロードに失敗しても、一週間ダウンロード保証。
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洋書ダウンロードフロア ＞Classic Literature＞Jampot Smith
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