Omtale fra forlaget
This is by the nobel prize-winning author of Beloved. An angry and self-loathing veteran of the Korean War, Frank Money finds himself back in racist America after enduring trauma on the front lines that left him with more than just physical scars. As Frank revisits the memories from childhood and the war that leave him questioning his shattered sense of self, he unearths the courage he thought he'd lost forever. With dialogue that speaks itself aloud off the page, the incantatory power of Morrison's language reveals an apparently defeated man finding his manhood - and, finally, his home.
Utgivelsesår 2016
Format Heftet
ISBN13 9780099555940
EAN 9780099555940
Omtalt tid Etterkrigstiden
Omtalt sted Georgia, USA
Språk Engelsk
Utgave 1
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Dette slår meg som en bok der forfatterens styrke blir bokens svakhet, for Morrison er drivende effektiv i skildringene sine og trenger lite plass for å fortelle en nokså grusom historie. Jeg skulle allikevel ønske at boken var minst hundre sider lenger for jeg rekker såvidt å begynne å bry meg om karakterene før boken avsluttes. En sterk firer.
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Start en diskusjon om verket Se alle diskusjoner om verketThe veterans ranked battles and wars according to loss numbers: three thousand at this place, sixty thousand in the trenches, twelve thousand at another. The more killed, the braver the warriors, not the stupider the commanders.
Ignoring those who preferred new, soft blankets, they practised what they had been taught by their mothers during the period that rich people called the Depression and they called life.
As usual she blamed being dumb on her lack of schooling, but that excuse fell apart the second she tought about the skilled women who had cared for her, healed her. Some of them had to have Bible verses read to them because they could not decipher print themselves, so they had sharpened the skills of the illiterate: perfect memory, photographic minds, keen senses of smell and hearing.
There was no excess in their gardens because they shared everything. They took responsibility for their lives and for whatever, whovevere else needed them. The absence of common sense irritated but did not surprise them. Laziness was more than intolerable to them; it was inhuman. Whether you were in the field, the house, your own backyard, you had to be busy. Sleep was not for dreaming, it was for gathering strength for the coming day.
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