The Things They Carried
Tim O'Brien, 1990
Πολιτική και κοινωνία Ιστορικά μυθιστορήματα
Ατμόσφαιρα: φόβος και δέος. Μιλά για τον πόλεμο και τη μνήμη.
Μια σελίδα από το βιβλίο
A thing may happen and be a total lie; another thing may not happen and be truer than the truth. For example: Four guys go down a trail. A grenade sails out. One guy jumps on it and takes the blast, but it’s a killer grenade and everybody dies anyway. Before they die, though, one of the dead guys says, “The fuck you do that for?” and the jumper says, “Story of my life, man” and other guys start to smile but he’s dead. That’s a true story that never happened. 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 «The Things They Carried»;
- Ατμόσφαιρα: φόβος και δέος. Μιλά για τον πόλεμο και τη μνήμη.
- Τι να διαβάσω μετά το «The Things They Carried»;
- Αν σου άρεσε το «The Things They Carried», δοκίμασε «Between Shades of Gray» (Ruta Sepetys), «For Whom the Bell Tolls» (Ernest Hemingway) και «The Women» (Kristin Hannah).
Μια γεύση από τη ροή
The morning a boy's life is priced, and the price fits in a pocket.
Have you ever wondered what a human life is worth? That morning, my brother’s was worth a pocket watch.
Between Shades of Gray · Ruta Sepetys
The inventory a man takes once dying has stopped frightening him.
Dying was nothing and he had no picture of it nor fear of it in his mind. But living was a field of grain blowing in the wind on the side of a hill. Living was a hawk in the sky. Living was an earthen jar of water in the dust of the threshing with the grain flailed out and the chaff blowing. Living was a horse between your legs and a carbine under one leg and a hill and a valley and a stream with trees along it and the far side of the valley and the hills beyond.
For Whom the Bell Tolls · Ernest Hemingway
What it means when a five-year-old stops seeing the soldiers at all.
As they turned to enter their building, both girls looked straight ahead, toward the door. They did it purposely so that they would not catch the eyes or the attention of two more soldiers, who stood with their guns on this corner as well. Kirsti scurried ahead of them through the door, chattering about the picture she was bringing home from kindergarten to show Mama. For Kirsti, the soldiers were simply part of the landscape, something that had always been there, on every corner, as unimportant as lampposts, throughout her remembered life.
Number the Stars · Lois Lowry
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