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- Джозеф Хеллер
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- Уловка 22
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They
seemed
made
of
iron
and
old
,
dark
clothing
.
The
woman
had
a
long
,
brooding
oval
face
of
burnt
umber
,
with
coarse
graying
black
hair
parted
severely
in
the
middle
and
combed
back
austerely
behind
her
neck
without
curl
,
wave
or
ornamentation
.
Her
mouth
was
sullen
and
sad
,
her
lined
lips
compressed
.
The
father
stood
very
rigid
and
quaint
in
a
double
-
breasted
suit
with
padded
shoulders
that
were
much
too
tight
for
him
.
He
was
broad
and
muscular
on
a
small
scale
and
had
a
magnificently
curled
silver
mustache
on
his
crinkled
face
.
His
eyes
were
creased
and
rheumy
,
and
he
appeared
tragically
ill
at
ease
as
he
stood
awkwardly
with
the
brim
of
his
black
felt
fedora
held
in
his
two
brawny
laborer
’
s
hands
out
in
front
of
his
wide
lapels
.
Poverty
and
hard
work
had
inflicted
iniquitous
damage
on
both
.
The
brother
was
looking
for
a
fight
.
His
round
white
cap
was
cocked
at
an
insolent
tilt
,
his
hands
were
clenched
,
and
he
glared
at
everything
in
the
room
with
a
scowl
of
injured
truculence
.
The
three
creaked
forward
timidly
,
holding
themselves
close
to
each
other
in
a
stealthy
,
funereal
group
and
inching
forward
almost
in
step
,
until
they
arrived
at
the
side
of
the
bed
and
stood
staring
down
at
Yossarian
.
There
was
a
gruesome
and
excruciating
silence
that
threatened
to
endure
forever
.
Finally
Yossarian
was
unable
to
bear
it
any
longer
and
cleared
his
throat
.
The
old
man
spoke
at
last
.
"
He
looks
terrible
,
"
he
said
.
"
He
’
s
sick
,
Pa
.
"
"
Giuseppe
,
"
said
the
mother
,
who
had
seated
herself
in
a
chair
with
her
veinous
fingers
clasped
in
her
lap
.
"
My
name
is
Yossarian
,
"
Yossarian
said
.
"
His
name
is
Yossarian
,
Ma
.
Yossarian
,
don
’
t
you
recognize
me
?
I
’
m
your
brother
John
.
Don
’
t
you
know
who
I
am
?
"
"
Sure
I
do
.
You
’
re
my
brother
John
.
"
"
He
does
recognize
me
!
Pa
,
he
knows
who
I
am
.
Yossarian
,
here
’
s
Papa
.
Say
hello
to
Papa
.
"
