“I couldn’t help feeling that her head would bob up again any minute and that she would have to vomit some more, that there was something more inside her that wanted to come out: not only that fetus aged three months who like me didn’t know which father he had to thank for his existence; no, I thought, it’s not just he who wants to come out and, like Oskar, demand a drum, no, there’s more fish, not sardines, and not flounder, no, it’s a little chunk of eel, a few whitish-green threads of eel flesh, eel from the battle of the Skagerrak, eel from the Naufahrwasser breakwater, Good Friday eel, eel from that horse’s head, possibly eel from her father Joseph Koljaiczek who ended under the raft, a prey to the eels, eel of thine eel, for eel thou art, to eel returnest...”
- Chapter 13, The Tin Drum, Gunter Grass
Um . . . I don't get it.
</SARCASM>