Äåòàëüíàÿ èíôîðìàöèÿ îá èçäàíèè

Àâòîð:

Çàãëàâèå:

My father's Tears and other stories

Òèï íîñèòåëÿ:

Îäíîòîìíèê.

Ìåñòî èçäàíèÿ:

London

Èçäàòåëüñòâî:

Penguin books

Ãîä èçäàíèÿ:

2009

Îáúåì:

292 p.

Àííîòàöèÿ:

Craig Martin took an interest in the traces left by prior owners of his land. In the prime of his life, when he worked every weekday and socialised all weekend, he had pretty much ignored his land. The minor flaw is the proximity of prior and prime. This gives us a dissonant rime riche on the first syllable; and the two words, besides, are etymological half-siblings, and should never be left alone together without many intercessionary chaperones. And the major flaw? The first sentence ends with the words «his land» and so, with a resonant clunk, does the second. Mere quibbles, some may say. But we are addressing ourselves to John Updike, who was perhaps the greatest virtuoso stylist since Nabokov — who, in his turn, was perhaps the greatest virtuoso stylist since Joyce.

ISBN:

978-0-141-04259-6

ßçûê:

Àíãëèéñêèé

ÁÁÊ:

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