Thanksgiving

(imagem de Frisky Wife)

Celebrando a quarta quinta-feira de Novembro, o Thanksgiving. Deixo um relato do primeiro, de Edward Winslow, em "Mourt's Relation", secção 6 (o único outro relato é de William Bradford em "Of Plimoth Plantation", ambos aqui).

"Our harvest being gotten in, our governor sent four men on fowling, that so we might after have a special manner rejoice together after we had gathered the fruit of our labors; they four in one day killed as much fowl, as with a little help beside, served the company almost a week, at which time amongst other recreations, we exercised our arms, many of the Indians coming amongst us, and among the rest their greatest King Massasoit, with some ninety men, whom for three days we entertained and feasted, and they went out and killed five deer, which they brought to the plantation and bestowed on our governor, and upon the captain, and others. And although it be not always so plentiful as it was at this time with us, yet by the goodness of God, we are so far from want that we often wish you partakers of our plenty. "

E ao que chegou, as palavras cortantes de Richard Ford em "The Lay of the Land":

"As everyone knows, the Thanksgiving "concept" was originally strong-armed onto poor war-worn President Lincoln by an early-prototype forceful-woman editor of a nineteenth-century equivalent of the Ladies' Home Journal, with a view to upping subscriptions. And while you can argue that the holiday commemorates ancient rites of fecundity and the Great-Mother-Who-Is-in-the-Earth, it's in fact always honored storewide clearances and stacking 'em deep 'n selling 'em cheap - unless you're a Wampanoag Indian, in which case it celebrates deceit, genocide and man's indifference to who owns what."

Quando, depois de uma ausência forçada dos livros de maior fôlego, retorno e escolho um livro que me dá vontade de o citar a cada parágrafo, é dia de obrigados.