С удивлением обнаружила, что про этот роман ничего не написала!
Кстати, сильно по мотивам "индийской трилогии Шарпа" надысь сняли доп. серию к известному сериалу. Подробности - тут. Из необычных совпадений замечу, что Уильяма Додда играет там Тоби Стивенс - м-р Рочестер из записи ниже Шарп хорош тем, как мучается своим назначением - ровно до того момента, пока не находит себе дело и пока его как следует не разозлят (попытавшись в очередной раз подло убить). Первый момент на поле боя в качестве прапорщика (или, скорее, младшего лейтенанта все же) - это очередной шедевр Корнуэлла, который достоверно изображает, как его самый геройский герой справляет малую нужду на поле боя. Из таких вот подробностей - застежки бриджей, стука неудобной кавалерийской сабли по бедру - складывается удивительная достоверность. Любви почти нет, но зато есть предательство, Шарп в ярости и его общение с Уэсли! О, они стоят друг друга! Меня всегда ужасно пробирает, когда эти тонкие эмоции - вроде не враги, но почти ненавидят один другого, при этом каждый восхищается качествами другого, никакого намека на дружбу - и даже на благодарность (с обеих сторон), но при этом удивительная согласованность и поддержание субординации в военных делах.
~*~
Любимый момент всей книги - когда Шарп избивает Морриса, подбивая своих бывших товарищей из 33-го полка на штурм неприступной крепости:
Много и по-английски, но оно того стоит! Lucky bastard, that ensign Sharpe! Morris tipped the canteen to his mouth, drank, then wiped his lips.
"If you, twenty like you and the Archangel Gabriel and all the bloody saints asked me to climb the ravine, Sharpe, I would still say no. Now for Christ's sake, man, stop trying to be a bloody hero. Leave it to the poor bastards who are under orders, and go away." He waved a hand.
"Sir," Sharpe pleaded, "we can do it! I've sent for a ladder."
"No!" Morris interrupted loudly, attracting the attention of the rest of the company. "I am not giving you my company, Sharpe. For God's sake, you're not even a proper officer! You're just a bumped-up sergeant! A bloody ensign too big for your boots and, allow me to remind you, Mister Sharpe, forbidden by army regulations to serve in this regiment. Now go away and leave me in peace."
"I thought you'd say that, Charles," Sharpe said ruefully.
"And stop calling me Charles!" Morris exploded. "We are not friends, you and I. And kindly obey my order to leave me in peace, or had you not noticed that I outrank you?"
"I had noticed. Sorry, sir," Sharpe said humbly and he started to turn away, but suddenly whipped back and seized Morris's coat. He dragged the Captain back into the rocks, going so fast that Morris was momentarily incapable of resistance. Once among the rocks, Sharpe let go of the patched coat and thumped Morris in the belly.
"That's for the flogging you gave me, you bastard," he said.
"What the hell do you think you're doing, Sharpe?" Morris asked, scrambling away on his bottom.
Sharpe kicked him in the chest, leaned down, hauled him up and thumped him on the jaw. Morris squealed with pain, then gasped as Sharpe backhanded him across the cheek, then struck him again. A group of men had followed and were watching wide-eyed. Morris turned to appeal to them, but Sharpe hit him yet again and the Captain's eyes turned glassy as he swayed and collapsed. Sharpe bent over him.
"You might outrank me," he said, "but you're a piece of shit, Charlie, and you always were. Now can I take the company?"
"No," Morris said through the blood on his lips.
"Thank you, sir," Sharpe said, and stamped his boot hard down on Morris's head, driving it onto a rock. Morris gasped, choked, then lay immobile as the breath scraped in his throat.
Sharpe kicked Morris's head again, just for the hell of it, then turned, smiling.
"Where's Sergeant Green?"
"Here, sir." Green, looking anxious, pushed through the watching men.
"I'm here, sir," he said, staring with astonishment at the immobile Morris.
"Captain Morris has eaten something that disagreed with him," Sharpe said, "but before he was taken ill he expressed the wish that I should temporarily take command of the company."
Sergeant Green looked at the battered, bleeding Captain, then back to Sharpe.
"Something he ate, sir?"
"Are you a doctor, Sergeant? Wear a black plume on your hat, do you?"
"No, sir."
"Then stop questioning my statements. Have the company paraded, muskets loaded, no bayonets fixed." Green hesitated.
"Do it, Sergeant!" Sharpe roared, startling the watching men.
"Yes, sir!" Green said hurriedly, backing away.