from willy wonka, of course. as behenji waits for hari puttar to come flying through her door (the ups owl seems quite busy today), she is taking delight in those authors who cater to little bohemians. just read a wonderful piece on roald dahl, of charlie and the chocolate factory fame, in the new yorker (click on title). the author of the article went to visit dahl's house in england and describes dahl's writing place or writing hut rather:
'The walls, lined with Styrofoam, were stained sepia from all the cigarettes Dahl smoked; there was a grotty wing chair; and wires for a jury-rigged heating system dangled from the ceiling. “You’d expect it to be grander,” one woman said. But the kids saw more possibilities in a musty old hut of one’s own. They liked the fact that Dahl, unsatisfied with desks, had designed a baize-covered writing board, to balance on his lap just so. And they loved that he kept, on a side table, a jar containing gristly bits of his own spine, which had been removed during an operation on his lower back. Next to the jar was a waxy-looking knob that turned out to be Dahl’s hip bone, along with a titanium replacement.'
if you haven't read charlie and the chocolate factory, behenji highly recommends it. the language, the imagery, the plot, the triumph of the underdog...dare behenji say better than a 70's hindi movie;)
