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Hamsun, Knut, 1859-1952

"Shallow Soil"

But the
young Norway does not step forward; indeed no, we have mollycoddled it
with hymns and rot about peace eternal; we have taught it to admire
gentleness and submissiveness; above all, to emulate those who have
reached the highest degree of neutral toothlessness. Behold the country's
youth, strapping and full-grown, six foot tall, sucking its bottle and
growing fat and harmless. If some one smites it on one cheek it turns the
other accommodatingly, and keeps its fists in its pockets with admirable
self-control."
Coldevin's speech attracted not a little attention; they all looked
closely at him. He sat there as usual and spoke quietly, without
excitement. But his eyes blazed, and his hands trembled as he awkwardly
bent back his fingers until they cracked. He did not lift his voice above
the normal. Otherwise he did not look well; he wore a loose shirt-front,
and this had become disarranged and hung lopsidedly so that one could
glimpse a blue cotton shirt beneath. His beard straggled down his breast.
The Journalist nodded and remarked to his neighbour:
"Not at all bad! He is almost one of us."
Lars Paulsberg said jestingly, and still amiably:
"As I said before, I have done nothing but curse all day, so I guess I
have contributed considerably to the indignation of our youth.


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