Skip to main content

Quality - John Galsworthy

Quality by John Galsworthy is short story which presents struggle of true artisan in rise of modern age of machinery.

The story is about a shoemaker. There are two brothers, Gessler brothers. Narrator is regular customer of Gesslers. He praises their craftsmanship telling that they make boots those are ordered not ready-made. He took measure carefully, use best leather, and work without rest and food to supply shoes on time.

One day when narrator goes to order a pair of shoes, Gessler find that narrator is wearing shoes from another company. Gessler feels annoyed by commercial big companies. They don't make good boots and their only interest is in profit.

When narrator go after two years to order shoes he finds that Gessler had sold half of the shop and elder brother also had died. Again when after one year narrator visits shop of Gesslers and finds Gessler in terrible situation. He was looked broken. And after one week he go for taking his shoes and shocked by news of Gessler's death. The person there was told that he died because of starvation. He worked hard without rest and food. Buy Gessler had completed narrator's shoes before his death. A perfect pair of shoes.


Comments

  1. clarabenet90@gmail.comAugust 4, 2020 at 4:09 AM

    Insanely hot ! Your book can really be the beginning of something...With a great cover and content, you just need more reviews to grab eyeballs and make more sales. Try honestbookreview dot com

    ReplyDelete
  2. Komal BambhaniyaMay 24, 2021 at 12:41 AM

    Can you give pin pointed story

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

To the Indians who died in South Africa - T.S. Eliot

A man's destination is his own village,  His own fire, and his wife's cooking;  To sit in front of his own door at sunset  And see his grandson, and his neighbour's grandson  Playing in the dust together.  Scarred but secure, he has many memories  Which return at the hour of conversation,  (The warm or the cool hour, according to the climate)  Of foreign men, who fought in foreign places,  Foreign to each other.  A man's destination is not his destiny,  Every country is home to one man  And exile to another. Where a man dies bravely  At one with his destiny, that soil is his.  Let his village remember.  This was not your land, or ours: but a village in the Midlands,  And one in the Five Rivers, may have the same graveyard.  Let those who go home tell the same story of you:  Of action with a common purpose, action  None the less fruitful if neither you nor we  Know, unt...
10 comments
Read more

The Old Woman - Joseph Campbell

'The Old Woman' is simple and short poem by Joseph Campbell where he compares old woman with different things and describes her. The poem has three stanzas. .In  the first stanza , the poet compares the old lady with the white candle. White colour is symbol of peace and candle is symbol of light. The old woman is like white candle. She is in peace and she gives other people light by his experiences. She is able to show right path who need that. In the second  stanza, the poet compares the old lady with the spent radiance of the winter's sun. It refers old woman's long life. But now she is old like winter's sun, but she has gathered a wide experience of life. Poet writes, "A woman with her travail done" In last stanza, the poet compares the old woman with the water under the ruined mill. The water is still under the ruined mill and by comparing this poet writes about the old lady that her all sons has gone, they do not live with her. But she has all the...
23 comments
Read more

Mystic drum - Gabriel Okara

The mystic drum in my inside and fishes danced in the rivers and men and women danced on land to the rhythm of my drum   But standing behind a tree with leaves around her waist she only smiled with a shake of her head.   Still my drum contimued to beat, rippling the air with quickened tempo compelling the quick and the dead to dance and sing with their shadows -   But standing behind a tree with leaves around her waist she only smiled with a shake of her head.   Then the drum beat with the rhythm of the things of the ground and invoked the eye of the sky the sun and the moon and the river gods - and the trees bean to dance, the fishes turned men and men turned fishes and things stopped to grow -   But standing behind a tree with leaves around her waist she only smiled with a shake of her head.   And then the mystic drum in my inside stopped to beat - and men became men, fishes became fishes and trees, the sun and the moo...
Post a Comment
Read more