Name That Author

[Lifted Up]

When I at last began to resign myself to the fact that no further aid was to be expected from man, and knowing that I was utterly powerless to do anything for my own salvation, I kneeled with earnest fervor and asked assistance from Heaven. The remembrance of my innocent childhood, the memory of my mother, known only in my infancy, came welling forth from my heart. I had recourse to prayer. And little as I had a right to be remembered by Him whom I had forgotten in the hour of prosperity, and whom I so tardily invoked, I prayed earnestly and sincerely.

As soon as the meal was over, the children disappeared, whilst the grown people sat around the fireplace, on which was placed turf, heather, cow dung and dried fish-bones. As soon as everybody was sufficiently warm, a general dispersion took place, all retiring to their respective couches. Our hostess offered to pull off our stockings and trousers, according to the custom of the country, but as we graciously declined to be so honored, she left us to our bed of dry fodder.

The weather, if, under the circumstances, we may use such an expression, is about to change very suddenly. The atmosphere is being gradually loaded with vapors, which carry with them the electricity formed by the constant evaporation of the saline waters; the clouds are slowly but sensibly falling towards the sea, and are assuming a dark-olive texture...

Slowly, and shivering all the while with cold, I opened my eyes. What then did I see? My first glance was upwards at the cold fleecy clouds, which as by some optical delusion appeared to stand still, while the steeple, the weathercock, and our two selves were carried swiftly along. Far away on one side could be seen the grassy plain, while on the other lay the sea bathed in translucent light. The Sund, or Sound as we call it, could be discovered beyond the point of Elsinore, crowded with white sails, which, at that distance looked like the wings of seagulls; while to the east could be made out the far-off coast of Sweden. The whole appeared a magic panorama.

From another work.....

Texas produced its array of twenty-six counties; Florida replied that twelve counties were better than twenty-six in a country only one-sixth part of the size.

Texas plumed itself upon its 330,000 natives; Florida, with a far smaller territory, boasted of being much more densely populated with 56,000.

The Texans, through the columns of the Herald claimed that some regard should be had to a State which grew the best cotton in all America, produced the best green oak for the service of the navy, and contained the finest oil, besides iron mines, in which the yield was fifty per cent. of pure metal.

To this the American Review replied that the soil of Florida, although not equally rich, afforded the best conditions for the moulding and casting of the Columbiad, consisting as it did of sand and argillaceous earth.

“That may be all very well,” replied the Texans; “but you must first get to this country. Now the communications with Florida are difficult, while the coast of Texas offers the bay of Galveston, which possesses a circumference of fourteen leagues, and is capable of containing the navies of the entire world!”

“A pretty notion truly,” replied the papers in the interest of Florida, “that of Galveston bay below the 29th parallel! Have we not got the bay of Espiritu Santo, opening precisely upon the 28th degree, and by which ships can reach Tampa Town by direct route?”

“A fine bay; half choked with sand!”

“Choked yourselves!” returned the others.

Thus the war went on for several days, when Florida endeavored to draw her adversary away on to fresh ground; and one morning the Times hinted that, the enterprise being essentially American, it ought not to be attempted upon other than purely American territory.

To these words Texas retorted, “American! are we not as much so as you? Were not Texas and Florida both incorporated into the Union in 1845?”

“Undoubtedly,” replied the Times; “but we have belonged to the Americans ever since 1820.”

“Yes!” returned the Tribune; “after having been Spaniards or English for two hundred years, you were sold to the United States for five million dollars!”

“Well! and why need we blush for that? Was not Louisiana bought from Napoleon in 1803 at the price of sixteen million dollars?”

“Scandalous!” roared the Texas deputies. “A wretched little strip of country like Florida to dare to compare itself to Texas, who, in place of selling herself, asserted her own independence, drove out the Mexicans in March 2, 1846, and declared herself a federal republic after the victory gained by Samuel Houston, on the banks of the San Jacinto, over the troops of Santa Anna!—a country, in fine, which voluntarily annexed itself to the United States of America!”

“Yes; because it was afraid of the Mexicans!” replied Florida.

and

An appalling unearthly report followed instantly, such as can be compared to nothing whatever known, not even to the roar of thunder, or the blast of volcanic explosions! No words can convey the slightest idea of the terrific sound! An immense spout of fire shot up from the bowels of the earth as from a crater. The earth heaved up, and with great difficulty some few spectators obtained a momentary glimpse of the projectile victoriously cleaving the air in the midst of the fiery vapors!

Hint: several of this author's books were adapted for the screen, though some with considerable changes in details (which is normal I guess).

The original film of my first example has as its first billed star a person more known for his singing voice, which is on display a few times in the film. And, surprise, to me, just now, checking up on him, I learned something about his ancestry I didn't know before, but which one might guess given that there is something significant to guess.

Another hint: this author, according to the information I have, is the second most translated author of all time, behind only Agatha Christie.

Back to the first work, maybe giveaway time?

About eight o’clock in the evening, my uncle gave the signal for halting. Hans seated himself on the ground. The lamps were hung to fissures in the lava rock. We were now in a large cavern where air was not wanting. On the contrary, it abounded. What could be the cause of this—to what atmospheric agitation could be ascribed this draught? But this was a question which I did not care to discuss just then. Fatigue and hunger made me incapable of reasoning. An unceasing march of seven hours had not been kept up without great exhaustion. I was really and truly worn out; and delighted enough I was to hear the word Halt.

[GeorgeStGeorge]

James Michener?

George

[Lifted Up]

James Michener?

George

Nope. Will come up with more shortly.

[Lifted Up]

This is from still another work...

The Canadian's last words produced a sudden revolution in my brain. I wriggled myself quickly to the top of the being, or object, half out of the water, which served us for a refuge. I kicked it. It was evidently a hard impenetrable body, and not the soft substance that forms the bodies of the great marine mammalia. But this hard body might be a bony carapace, like that of the antediluvian animals; and I should be free to class this monster among amphibious reptiles, such as tortoises or alligators.

Well, no! the blackish back that supported me was smooth, polished, without scales. The blow produced a metallic sound; and incredible though it may be, it seemed, I might say, as if it was made of riveted plates.

and

"My worthy Ned," I answered, "to the poet, a pearl is a tear of the sea; to the Orientals, it is a drop of dew solidified; to the ladies, it is a jewel of an oblong shape, of a brilliancy of mother-of-pearl substance, which they wear on their fingers, their necks, or their ears; for the chemist, it is a mixture of phosphate and carbonate of lime, with a little gelatine; and lastly, for naturalists, it is simply a morbid secretion of the organ that produces the mother-of-pearl among certain bivalves."

back to the first...

I have, in consequence, kept no account of what followed for many hours. I have a vague and confused remembrance of continual detonations, of the shaking of the huge granitic mass, and of the raft going round like a spinning top. It floated on the stream of hot lava, amidst a falling cloud of cinders. The huge flames roaring, wrapped us around.

A storm of wind which appeared to be cast forth from an immense ventilator roused up the interior fires of the earth. It was a hot, incandescent blast!

At last I saw the figure of Hans as if enveloped in the huge halo of burning blaze, and no other sense remained to me but that sinister dread which the condemned victim may be supposed to feel when led to the mouth of a cannon, at the supreme moment when the shot is fired and his limbs are dispersed into empty space.

The ancestry of the star of the movie based on this work is reportedly, he is the great great great great grandson of... Daniel Boone.

There was another film adaptation of this novel which was released this year.

What happened after that? As to the terrific roar of the explosion, I do not think I heard it. But the form of the rocks completely changed in my eyes—they seemed to be drawn aside like a curtain. I saw a fathomless, a bottomless abyss, which yawned beneath the turgid waves. The sea, which seemed suddenly to have gone mad, then became one great mountainous mass, upon the top of which the raft rose perpendicularly.

We were all thrown down. In less than a second the light gave place to the most profound obscurity. Then I felt all solid support give way not to my feet, but to the raft itself. I thought it was going bodily down a tremendous well. I tried to speak, to question my uncle. Nothing could be heard but the roaring of the mighty waves. We clung together in utter silence.

Despite the awful darkness, despite the noise, the surprise, the emotion, I thoroughly understood what had happened.

Beyond the rock which had been blown up, there existed a mighty abyss. The explosion had caused a kind of earthquake in this soil, broken by fissures and rents. The gulf, thus suddenly thrown open, was about to swallow the inland seal which, transformed into a mighty torrent, was dragging us with it.

Only one idea filled my mind. We were utterly and completely lost!

Edited November 30, 2008 by Lifted Up

[Lifted Up]

I guess it is time for next to giveaway...

“You don’t mean to say that you have any idea of the meaning of the scrawl?”

“I do,” was my desperate reply. “Look at the sentence as dictated by you.”

“Well, but it means nothing,” was the angry answer.

“Nothing if you read from left to right, but mark, if from right to left—”

“Backwards!” cried my uncle, in wild amazement. “Oh most cunning Saknussemm; and I to be such a blockhead!”

He snatched up the document, gazed at it with haggard eye, and read it out as I had done.

It read as follows:

In Sneffels Yoculis craterem kem delibat umbra Scartaris Julii intra calendas descende, audas viator, et terrestre centrum attinges. Kod feci. Arne Saknussemm

Which dog Latin being translated, reads as follows:

Descend into the crater of Yocul of Sneffels, which the shade of Scartaris caresses, before the kalends of July, audacious traveler, and you will reach the... (giveaway phrase follows)

[GeorgeStGeorge]

The name "Arne Saknussem" sounds familiar, but I can't place it...

George

[Lifted Up]

Yea, like a certain Captain from another work whose name I won't mention...yet.

Wonder if anyone else is checking this out, because I have all but given the title. But, then, I had a liitle help on Mr. Hamilton...

[Lifted Up]

Nemo

Nautilus

[GeorgeStGeorge]

Uhhh... Jules Verne?

George

[Lifted Up]

Finally!!!

But I wonder if anyone else was looking at this at all?

Anyway...go when you can.

[GeorgeStGeorge]

I often get that feeling, but usually it's just because people don't have a guess.

And honestly, as I said in, I think, my first post on this thread, people do a lot more TV- and movie-watching than reading, so there won't be as much activity here as on other threads. (Except, of course, Name that Hymn, that Thomas Bumgarner keeps on life support.)

George

Edited December 2, 2008 by GeorgeStGeorge

[Lifted Up]

And honestly, as I said in, I think, my first post on this thread, people do a lot more TV- and movie-watching than reading, so there won't be as much activity here as on other threads.

Yea, GS has its own traits. like, and I'm glad of it, baseball is so big here; just sometimes curious why football usually lies aside, even in its season, while at work and at The Y the football talk is always flying thick.

[GeorgeStGeorge]

This is a translation.

In 1815, M. Charles Francois-Bienvenu Myriel was Bishop of D--. He was a man of 75, and had occupied the bishopric of D-- since 1806. Although it in no manner concerns, even in the remotest degree, what we have to relate, it may not be useless, were it only for the sake of exactness in all things, to notice here the reports and gossip which had arisen on his account from the time of his arrival in the diocese.

George

Edited December 6, 2008 by GeorgeStGeorge

[Lifted Up]

The good news is that I'm thinking about this one.

The bad news is that I'm thinking.

Anyway, I gotta feeling I may evenutally come up with a guess, but not now.

[Raf]

Possibly my favorite novel/story of all time.

[GeorgeStGeorge]

Possibly my favorite novel/story of all time.

Possibly...

George

[Lifted Up]

Why did I just get a good idea for this thread? I'll have to wait till I'm up, which won't happen right now.

Edited December 7, 2008 by Lifted Up

[Raf]

Lifted can take my turn.

It's Victor Hugo, and those are the opening lines of Les Miserables.

[Raf]

And I never understood why they left out the remaining letters of place names. FYI, it's Digne.

[Lifted Up]

Lifted can take my turn.

Sounds like you're busy. That's okay; I'm sure someone else will be around (George at least) to take a shot at this one.

When it comes to trying to maintain a family-friendly atmosphere, we are outgunned, outnumbered and out of our minds if we think they’re not going to be bombarded with words and images of sex.

[Raf]

Banal, dull writing from someone who obviously chose the wrong line of work.

[now I see]

[Lifted Up]

That didn't work out like I planned; the wrong person made the first post after mine; I wanted to see if someone could get it without any helpful hints!

[GeorgeStGeorge]

Sounds like you're busy. That's okay; I'm sure someone else will be around (George at least) to take a shot at this one.

Actually, I'll be on a business trip for the next couple of days. I assume from Raf's post that the quote is his, but someone else will have to post another.

George

[Raf]

Soweee