Before We Were Yours
Lisa Wingate, 2017
Ιστορικά μυθιστορήματα Σύγχρονη πεζογραφίαΛογοτεχνική πεζογραφία
Ατμόσφαιρα: φόβος και γαλήνη. Μιλά για την οικογένεια, τη μνήμη και την περιπέτεια.
Μια σελίδα από το βιβλίο
Someone touches my hand and wrist, fingers encircling me so unexpectedly that I jerk away, then stop myself, so as not to cause a scene. The grip is cold and bony and trembling, but surprisingly strong. I turn to see the woman from the garden. She straightens her humped back and gazes up at me through eyes the color of the hydrangeas back home at Drayden Hill—a soft, clear blue with a lighter mist around the edges. Her pleated lips tremble. Βιβλία με παρόμοια αίσθηση
Πού θα το βρεις
Από κάποιους από αυτούς τους συνδέσμους παίρνουμε μια μικρή προμήθεια, χωρίς επιπλέον κόστος για σένα. Έτσι το BookFeed μένει δωρεάν.
Ερωτήσεις αναγνωστών
- Πώς είναι το «Before We Were Yours»;
- Ατμόσφαιρα: φόβος και γαλήνη. Μιλά για την οικογένεια, τη μνήμη και την περιπέτεια.
- Τι να διαβάσω μετά το «Before We Were Yours»;
- Αν σου άρεσε το «Before We Were Yours», δοκίμασε «We Were Liars» (E. Lockhart), «The Things We Cannot Say» (Kelly Rimmer) και «Sharp Objects» (Gillian Flynn).
Μια γεύση από τη ροή
A compliment that treats love as a kind of reading.
Someone once wrote that a novel should deliver a series of small astonishments. I get the same thing spending an hour with you.
We Were Liars · E. Lockhart
What goes missing when a family stops asking questions?
What happens when stories like theirs are lost? What happens when there’s no one left to pass your experience on to, or you just can’t bring yourself to share it?
The Things We Cannot Say · Kelly Rimmer
The photograph you can no longer explain.
On the table by the door sat a photo of a preteen me holding Marian at about age seven. We’re both laughing. She has her eyes wide open in surprise, I have mine scrunched shut. I’m squeezing her into me, her short skinny legs dangling over my knees. I can’t remember the occasion or what we were laughing about. Over the years it’s become a pleasant mystery. I think I like not knowing.
Sharp Objects · Gillian Flynn
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