Exercises in Style

Exercises in Style by Raymond Queneau Read Free Book Online Page A

Book: Exercises in Style by Raymond Queneau Read Free Book Online
Authors: Raymond Queneau
oolon weari howas twith ngaha tedco aplai ndit rdrou. Lyhest sudden oharan artedt neighb guehis imingt ourcla urpose hathep onhist lytrod rytime oeseve gotino anyone rout. Herapid however onedthe lyaband ionandm discuss htoward adeadas tseat savacan.
    Slater is a few hour in in fron aw him aga resaintl tof the ga rossed in azareeng ation wit a convers who was te ha friend to get the lling him nof his ov top butto ised ercoatra.

Permutations by groups
of 9, 10, 11 and 12
letters
    Ards midda one day tow r platform yon the rea saw a young of an S bus I eck was too man whosen o was weari long and wh ha plaited nga hat wit it cord round. Started toh suddenly he neighbourc arangue his the purpose laiming tha stoes every ly trod on hi got in or out time anyone. Pidly abando however he ra ssion and mad ned the discu acant seat ea dash for av.
    Er I saw him aga a few hours lat he gare Saintl in in front oft edina convers azare engross iend who waste ation with afr tthe top button lling him toge at raised a bit nof his overco.

Permutations by
     groups
of 1, 2, 3 and 4 words
    Day one midday towards the on platform rear an of bus S saw I young a
     whose man was neck long too who and wearing was hat a a with cord plaited it round.
     Started to suddenly he neighbour claiming harangue his purposely trod that he toes every
     on his got in time anyone or out. Abandoned the discussion however he rapidly dash for a
     and made a vacant seat.
    I saw him again a few hours later gare Saint-Lazare engrossed in front
     of the a friend who was in a conversation with the top button of telling him to get his
     overcoat raised somewhat.

ellenisms
    In a hyperomnibus full of petrolonauts in a chronia of metarush I was a martyr to this microrama; a more than icosimetric hypotype, with a petasus pericycled by a caloplegma and a eucylindrical macrotrachea, anathematized an ephemeral and anonymous outis who, he pseudologed, had been epitreading his bipods, but as soon as he euryscoped a coenotopia he peristrophed and catapelted himself on to it.
    At a hysteretic chronia I aesthesised him in front of the siderodromous hagiolazaric stathma; peripating with a compsanthroposwho was symbouleuting him about the metakinetics of a sphincterous omphale.

eactionary
    Naturally the bus was pretty well full and the conductor was surly. You
     will find the cause of these things in the 8-hour day and the nationalisation schemes.
     And then the French lack organisation and a sense of their civic duties otherwise it
     wouldn’t be necessary to distribute numbered tickets to keep some semblance of
     order among the people waiting to get on the bus—order is the word all right! That
     day there were at least ten of us waiting in the blazing sun, and when the bus did
     arrive there was only room for two, and I was the sixth. Luckily I said “On
     Government business” and showed a card with my photo anda
     tricolour band across it—that always impresses conductors—and I got on.
     Naturally I have nothing to do with the unspeakable republican government but all the
     same I wasn’t going to miss an important business luncheon for a vulgar question
     of numbers. On the platform we were packed together like sardines. Such disgusting
     promiscuity always causes me acute suffering. The only possible compensation is the
     occasional charming contact with the quivering hindquarters of a dainty little
     midinette. Ah youth, youth! But one shouldn’t let oneself get excited. That time I
     was surrounded entirely by men, one of whom was a sort of teddy boy whose neck was of
     inordinate length and who was wearing a felt hat with a kind of plait round it instead
     of a ribbon. They ought to send all creatures of that sort off to labour camps. To
     repair the war damage. That caused by the anglo-saxons, especially. In my day we were
     Young Royalists, not Rock ’n Rollers. At any rate this young object suddenly makes
     so bold as to start abusing an ex-service man, a real one,

Similar Books

Archvillain

Barry Lyga

Hunter

James Byron Huggins

Time to Pretend

Michele Zurlo

Intrigues

Sharon Green

Last Dance

Caroline B. Cooney

The Bastard's Tale

Margaret Frazer