up to page 330, just gonna use this thread to hold myself accountable for my progress tbh
the opening of Part 3 is stunning:
We are safely past the days of the Eis-Heiligen - St. Pancratius, St. Servatius, St. Bonifacius, die kalte Sophie … they hover in clouds above the vineyards, holy beings of ice, ready with a breath, an intention, to ruin the year with frost and cold. In certain years, especially War years, they are short on charity, peevish, smug in their power: not quite saintly or even Christian. The prayers of growers, pickers and wine enthusiasts must reach them, but there’s no telling how the ice-saints feel - coarse laughter, pagan annoyance, who understands this rear-guard who preserve winter against the revolutionaries of May?
They found the countryside, this year, at peace by a scant few days. Already vines are beginning to grow back over dragon’s teeth, fallen Stukas, burned tanks. The sun warms the hillsides, the rivers fall bright as wine. The saints have refrained. Nights have been mild. The frost didn’t come. It is the spring of peace. The vintage, God granting at least a hundred days of sun, will be fine.