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Difference between revisions of "Theodore Hadley Carpenter"
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| − | Carpenter clapped his hands and one of his look-alike sons fetched a musical instrument. It was stringed, the strings stretched tight over a graven sounding-board . A dulcimer, Vilar thought in wonderment as the patriarch began to play, striking the strings with two carved ivory sticks. The melody was a strange and complex one; the poet, who had a sound but far from detailed knowledge of musical theory, listened carefully. The short piece ended plaintively in the minor, coming to an abrupt halt with three descending thirds. | + | Carpenter clapped his hands and one of his look-alike sons fetched a musical instrument. It was stringed, the strings stretched tight over a graven sounding-board. A dulcimer, Vilar thought in wonderment as the patriarch began to play, striking the strings with two carved ivory sticks. |
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| + | The melody was a strange and complex one; the poet, who had a sound but far from detailed knowledge of musical theory, listened carefully. The short piece ended plaintively in the minor, coming to an abrupt halt with three descending thirds. | ||
"My own composition," the old man said, in the silence that followed. "It's sometimes hard to get used to our music at first, but-" | "My own composition," the old man said, in the silence that followed. "It's sometimes hard to get used to our music at first, but-" | ||
Latest revision as of 09:53, 6 September 2023
Gray-haired patriarch of the sprawling Carpenter family on the terraformed frontier-type planet of Rigel Seven, from the short story "The Man with Talent" by Robert Silverberg, and originally appearing in Future Science Fiction #31 (Winter 1956-1957). The story was rewritten as "A Man of Talent" for republication in the 1966 anthology New Dreams This Morning.
Carpenter and his sons and grandsons are ALL poets, painters, and musicians, much to the dismay of newly-arrived tortured Earth poet and protagonist Emil Vilar.
Carpenter clapped his hands and one of his look-alike sons fetched a musical instrument. It was stringed, the strings stretched tight over a graven sounding-board. A dulcimer, Vilar thought in wonderment as the patriarch began to play, striking the strings with two carved ivory sticks.
The melody was a strange and complex one; the poet, who had a sound but far from detailed knowledge of musical theory, listened carefully. The short piece ended plaintively in the minor, coming to an abrupt halt with three descending thirds.
"My own composition," the old man said, in the silence that followed. "It's sometimes hard to get used to our music at first, but-"
"I thought it was fine," Vilar said shortly.
