The stories of The Lost Salt Gift of Blood are remarkably simple – a family is drawn together by shared and separate losses, a child’s reality conflicts with his parents’ memories, a young man struggles to come to terms with the loss of his father.Yet each piece of writing in this critically acclaimed collection is infused with a powerful life of its own, a precision of language and a scrupulous fidelity to the reality of time and place, of sea and Maritime farm.Focusing on the complexities and abiding mysteries at the heart of human relationships, the seven stories of The Lost Salt Gift of Blood map the close bonds and impassable chasms that lie between man and woman, parent and child. Views: 13
Orphan Jingo Hawks is out of luck when Mrs. Daggatt hires him out as a chimney sweep to the awful General Dirty-Face Scurlock. But it's gypsy luck that day in 1854 puts Jingo into the right chimney and then into the care of the mysterious Mr. Peacock-Hancock-Jones, who claims to know Jingo's scoundrel father. Together they set out on a treasure hunt from Boston to Mexico for buried gold. But they are not alone — those nasty gold diggers Mrs. Daggatt and General Scurlock are hot on their trail. But Mr. Peacock-Hancock-Jones has more than a few surprises in store . . . Views: 13
After a routine security check by George Smiley, civil servant Samuel Fennan apparently kills himself. When Smiley finds Circus head Maston is trying to blame him for the man's death, he begins his own investigation, meeting with Fennan's widow to find out what could have led him to such desperation. But on the very day that Smiley is ordered off the enquiry he receives an urgent letter from the dead man. Do the East Germans - and their agents - know more about this man's death than the Circus previously imagined?Le Carré's debut novel, Call for the Dead, introduced the tenacious and retiring George Smiley in a gripping tale of espionage and deceit. Views: 13
“My first, my incomparable love! Mary! What can existence mean to me now? You were dearer and more precious to me than the very breath of my nostrils. My life was ecstasy. I had found the perfect friendship of John, and—you! I was happy beyond all mortals! I dreamed of a love untouched by jealousy, cruelty, selfishness. I dreamed of a Paradise infinitely more beautiful than Eden. And now—both of you are bewitched by this pseudo-prophet!” … Jesus dragged his feet slowly. The cross, toppling to one side, beat lightly against his side. Suddenly he fell. I bent to lift him. He looked at me, but beckoned to one of the soldiers, saying in faulty Latin: “Help me, Roman!” I was white with anger. Jesus staggered to his feet. Tauntingly I muttered: “Where are your followers? Where is your father in Heaven, you fool? All have forsaken you. Go on! Go faster! Go to your self-chosen doom!” Jesus turned around and looked at me. All meekness had vanished from his face, now ablaze with anger. “I will go, but thou shalt tarry until I return.” As Isaac, or Cartaphilus, as he preferred to be known, watched family and friends grow old and die while he retained his youth, he came to understand the meaning and full import of Jesus’ pronouncement. Wandering through different lands and down the centuries, he met and influenced the people, and witnessed the events that would shape the modern world. And his wandering soon became the pursuit of the elusive and incomparable Salome, and the secret of Unendurable Pleasure Indefinitely Prolonged… “My First Two Thousand Years” is not for the faint of heart. The authors take no prisoners; repeatedly demonstrate that they hold absolutely nothing sacred; and constantly drive home the point that all of our historical figures and grand institutions are first, foremost, and above all else—human. Note: The cover shown is from the 1956 abridged paperback edition, but the text is full and unabridged (from a clothbound edition). Views: 13
Winner of the 1977 Grand Prix de Littérature Policière's International Prize!From the back coverA MAN AMONG THE DEAD...After forty years as the brilliant and esteemed Chief Medical Examiner, Dr. Paul Konig thought that he could face anything—even the eroding of his own life. The death of his wife, then the disappearance of his daughter, left him cynical and embittered. But nothing had prepared him for the incredible grotesque events that were to entrap him in a nightmare that made even the reviewers gasp!"Absolutely fascinating... strong graphic stuff... totally convincing and absorbing"—The Washington Post"Brutal, morbidly fascinating"—Playboy"Gruesome and harrowing... I became afraid—literally afraid—to turn the page!"—Christopher Lehman-Haupt, The New York Times"Brutal and uncompromising!"—San Francisco Examiner-Chronicle"Thoroughly engrossing... one of the best storytellers around"—Chicago News"The toughest, most harrowing, most gruesome novel in a long, long, time"—Publishers Weekly"The chiller of the season!"—Philadelphia InquirerKirkus ReviewsCity of the Dead is a much more mephitic and enclosed Crawlspace (1971); it's the New York City morgue where for 40 years Paul Konig, a great pathologist, has presided with highhanded dedication and self-destruction, refusing to concede to "death and assafetida. Formalin and fright." Hitting everything hard including the bottle in between Valiums, he sounds just like George C. Scott. "Shit work. I clean up after the goddamn party," making enemies instead of money. Now there are all kinds of problems on the tables, under the knife, including his own butt. The Mayor is out to shaft him with the help of one of Konig's ambitious men--was the suicide in the tombs really a murder, committed by one of the guards? In any case it led to sloppy forensic work--not Konig's. And how about the just revealed sideline of another department regular--the sale of unclaimed bodies? But there's worse to follow--the two bodies dredged up in various stages of mutilation, disarticulation and putrefaction to be put together--"like Humpty Dumpty." Enough? by no means--the real and most terrible half of Konig's story concerns his daughter Lolly who disappeared five months earlier into the hands of a militant group. Now there are susurrant, anonymous phone calls while a city detective tries to find her before she's returned in a canvas bag.... Lieberman's book is as obviously hard to take as it is to leave alone--but then if you can't stand the stench, stay out of the kitchen. It has a massive amount of authoritative detail--down to the last tache noire of the pupil of the eye which is about to be closed for good. If you flinch, well remember Wambaugh: Lieberman is a much sharper writer and his novel has all its buttons which in this case means vital signs. Views: 13
Suppose that elves, gremlins, and leprechauns are really tiny aliens marooned on Earth for hundreds of years. They want to go home, and human technology finally can make it possible—if they can get aboard NASA’s Mars rocket and hijack it! Pity the poor human who has to help them with the big heist… Views: 13
Originally published in 1941, Arthur Koestler's modern masterpiece, Darkness At Noon, is a powerful and haunting portrait of a Communist revolutionary caught in the vicious fray of the Moscow show trials of the late 1930s. During Stalin's purges, Nicholas Rubashov, an aging revolutionary, is imprisoned and psychologically tortured by the party he has devoted his life to. Under mounting pressure to confess to crimes he did not commit, Rubashov relives a career that embodies the ironies and betrayals of a revolutionary dictatorship that believes it is an instrument of liberation. A seminal work of twentieth-century literature, Darkness At Noon is a penetrating exploration of the moral danger inherent in a system that is willing to enforce its beliefs by any means necessary. Views: 13
SOMETIMES WINNING FEELS AN AWFUL LOT LIKE LOSING. Cab driver Chet Conway was hoping for a good tip from his latest fare, the sort he could spend. But what he got was a tip on a horse race. Which might have turned out okay, except that when he went to collect his winnings Chet found his bookie lying dead on the living room floor. Chet knows he had nothing to do with it – but just try explaining that to the cops, to the two rival criminal gangs who each think Chet’s working for the other, and to the dead man’s beautiful sister, who has flown in from Las Vegas to avenge her brother’s murder…From BooklistChet Conway, a New York City cabbie who calls himself eloquent, likes his job and can afford to be philosophical about tips—that is, until one passenger gives him a gratuity that may cost him his life. This tip isn’t spare change but inside dope on a long-shot horse. Chet, who likes both stud poker and horse racing, places a bet on the cuff, and the nag comes in big. But when he goes to collect, his bookie is bleeding. Even worse, everyone—from the bookie’s wife and sister, to the cops, to two warring gangs—thinks Chet pulled the trigger. All he wants is his cash, but he looks likely to be paid in lead. This 1969 comic caper may have fallen out of print, but it’s so agreeably engaging that it suggests that Westlake has never had a bad day at work. Chet’s doggedness in the face of absurd complications keeps us smiling along in the backseat. And, even as Westlake kids the conventions of mystery, the neatly knotted plot proves that he takes even fun seriously. --Keir Graff About the AuthorDonald E. Westlake is widely regarded as one of the great crime writers of the 20th Century. He won three Edgar Awards and was named a Grand Master by the Mystery Writers of America Many of his books have been made into movies; Westlake also wrote the screenplay for The Grifters,for which he received an Academy Award nomination. Views: 13
Katherine Sellers came to Owisden in the winter, to be the secretary-companion to Lydia Boland, one of the wealthiest women in the country. The job was an exciting challenge for Katherine, and a needed change from the events she'd sooner forget. And her new employer was a charming and gracious lady. If only all of the people of Owisden and the little mountain village that huddled against the estate for protection were so nice, Katherine's happiness would be assured. However, beneath the charm stirred other emotions, other forces. There was evil in that mountain valley, a brooding evil that worshipped at a dark altar… an altar that had been built for unspeakable sacrifice! And Katherine was marked from the moment she arrived — marked to die!
This book is one of five books written by Dean Koontz under the Deanna Dwyer pseudonym. Views: 13
Coley was close to tears. "Don't you want to tell me how much you love and adore me and how you can hardly wait to marry me?" Coley's voice was mocking. "I was so looking forward to that part." Even though her own heart was breaking, she could still derive pleasure from watching the angry scowl on Jason's face. How upsetting for him and his plans for the Slash S ranch that Coley was not falling into his arms as he thought she would! Views: 13
Lenz, Georg Büchner’s visionary exploration of an 18th-century playwright’s descent into madness, has been called the inception of European modernist prose. Elias Canetti considered this short novella one of the decisive reading experiences of his life, and writers as various as Paul Celan, Christa Wolff, Peter Schneider, and Gert Hofmann have paid homage to it in their works. Published posthumously in 1839, Lenz provides a taut case study of three weeks in the life of schizophrenic, perhaps the first third-person text ever to be written from the "inside" of insanity. An early experiment in docufiction, Büchner’s textual montage draws on the diary of J.F. Oberlin, the Alsatian pastor who briefly took care of Lenz in 1778, while also refracting Goethe’s memoir of his troubled friendship with the playwright — English versions of both of these historical source texts here accompany Lenz for the first time in this bilingual presentation. Based on the best recent edition of the text, this fresh translation will allow readers to discover why Heiner Müller pronounced Lenz the inaugural example of "21st-century prose." Views: 12
The superlatively analytical Inspector Hemingway is confronted by a murder that seems impossible—no one was near the murder weapon at the time the shot was fired. Everyone on the scene seems to have a motive, not to mention the wherewithal to commit murder, and alibis that simply don't hold up. The inspector is sorely tried by a wide variety of suspects, including the neglected widow, the neighbor who's in love with her, her resentful daughter, and a patently phony Russian prince preying on the widow's emotional vulnerability and social aspirations. And then there's the blackmail plot that may—or may not—be at the heart of the case… Views: 12
BIRTH OF A HOLOCAUST FB2Library.Elements.CiteItem Before the dawn of man… …there was a covenant between the land and the sea people—a covenant long forgotten by those who stayed on shore, but indelibly etched in the minds of the others—the dolphins of Altair. Now the covenant had been broken. Dolphins were being wantonly sacrificed in the name of scientific research, their waters increasingly polluted, their number dangerously diminished. They had to find allies and strike back. Allies willing to sever their own earthly bonds for the sake of their sea brothers—willing, if necessary, to execute the destruction of the whole human race… Views: 12
The future of a reckless and adventure-loving captain of the Dragoon Guards appeared very hum-drum and tedious in those days when Waterloo was both a recent, glorious victory and an end to the joys of soldiering. Big, handsome Captain John Staple left the Army because he feared boredom, and was immediately plunged into the kind of exciting hazards his temperament demanded. John Staple soon found himself involved in perilous activities in which participated such varied and colourful personalities [some extremely honest—others less so] as Jeremy Chirk the highwayman, Gabriel Stogumber the Bow Street Runner, and Nell Stornaway with whom the Captain's heart was soon deeply entangled. Views: 12
