Title
Typescript draft of The Studhorse Man, page 80
Description
Typescript from the third draft of Robert Kroetsch's 1969 novel The Studhorse Man.
Creator
Source
Archives and Special Collections
Publisher
Calgary: University of Calgary
Date
Contributor
Robertson, James
Smith, Amanda
Relation
Kroetsch, Robert. The Studhorse Man
Language
English
Type
Text
Identifier
MsC. 27.10.3
UUID
022e89cc-018d-4166-8a83-6cdd4c62d52f
Text
[Typescript]
six-thirty, Hazard guessed; to the east, the sky fanned a small light from the cold promise of the sun. The earth was endlessly white: the roofs, the streets, the parking lots, the snow-bent spruce trees--whiteness everywhere. The sound of a shovel grated in from somewhere distant, digging back to cement and rock and gravel.
Nearer at hand a horse whinnied. Hazard leaned against a Corinthian pillar of Alberta sandstone to put on his shoes; he ventured down the broad steps, wishing already he had brought along the redcoat's brown leather belt, the Deane and Adams revolver. He practised a salute with a white gauntlet, getting tangled the first few times in his cape.
What follows is very jumbled. Here in xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx scribbled pages on notes, sheafs of notes, old books and new ones, envelopes and bills with hieroglyphic comments scratched across them, packets of 5x8 filing cards held together by rubber bands that have lost all their stretch--again the problem of fragments and the absence of order. I can only offer you a samplying of what confronts me:
He marches out jauntily, his overshoes not buckled; janitor who is sweeping steps seems xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
six-thirty, Hazard guessed; to the east, the sky fanned a small light from the cold promise of the sun. The earth was endlessly white: the roofs, the streets, the parking lots, the snow-bent spruce trees--whiteness everywhere. The sound of a shovel grated in from somewhere distant, digging back to cement and rock and gravel.
Nearer at hand a horse whinnied. Hazard leaned against a Corinthian pillar of Alberta sandstone to put on his shoes; he ventured down the broad steps, wishing already he had brought along the redcoat's brown leather belt, the Deane and Adams revolver. He practised a salute with a white gauntlet, getting tangled the first few times in his cape.
What follows is very jumbled. Here in xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx scribbled pages on notes, sheafs of notes, old books and new ones, envelopes and bills with hieroglyphic comments scratched across them, packets of 5x8 filing cards held together by rubber bands that have lost all their stretch--again the problem of fragments and the absence of order. I can only offer you a samplying of what confronts me:
He marches out jauntily, his overshoes not buckled; janitor who is sweeping steps seems xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
[Holographic annotations]
72
my bathtub I sit buried to my armpits in
^in
^journals, newspapers,
72
my bathtub I sit buried to my armpits in
^in
^journals, newspapers,
Original Format
Typescript draft with holographic annotations