...Acclaim for Yann Martel's Life of Pi "Life of Pi is not just a readable and engaging novel, it's a finely twisted length of yarn— yarn implying a far-fetched story you can't quite swallow whole, but can't dismiss outright. Life of Pi is in this tradition—a story of uncertain veracity, made credible by the art of the yarn-spinner. Like its noteworthy ancestors, among which I take to be Robinson Crusoe, Gulliver's Travels, the Ancient Mariner, Moby Dick and Pincher Martin, it's a tale of disaster at sea coupled with miraculous survival—a boys' adventure for grownups." —Margaret Atwood, The Sunday Times (London) "A fabulous romp through an imagination by turns ecstatic, cunning, despairing and resilient, this novel is an impressive achievement. . . . Martel displays the clever voice and tremendous storytelling skills of an emerging master." —Publisher's Weekly (starred review) "[Life of Pi] has a buoyant, exotic, insistence reminiscent of Edgar Allen Poe's most Gothic fiction. . . . Oddities abound and the storytelling is first-rate. Yann Martel has written a novel full of grisly reality, outlandish plot, inventive setting and thought-provoking questions about the value and purpose of fiction." —The Edmonton journal "Martel's ceaselessly clever writing . . . [and] artful, occasionally hilarious, internal dialogue . . . make a fine argument for the divinity of good art." —The Gazette "Astounding and beautiful. . . . The book is a pleasure not only for the subtleties of its philosophy...
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...Yann Martel: Life of Pi life of pi A NOVEL author's note This book was born as I was hungry. Let me explain. In the spring of 1996, my second book, a novel, came out in Canada. It didn't fare well. Reviewers were puzzled, or damned it with faint praise. Then readers ignored it. Despite my best efforts at playing the clown or the trapeze artist, the media circus made no difference. The book did not move. Books lined the shelves of bookstores like kids standing in a row to play baseball or soccer, and mine was the gangly, unathletic kid that no one wanted on their team. It vanished quickly and quietly. The fiasco did not affect me too much. I had already moved on to another story, a novel set in Portugal in 1939. Only I was feeling restless. And I had a little money. So I flew to Bombay. This is not so illogical if you realize three things: that a stint in India will beat the restlessness out of any living creature; that a little money can go a long way there; and that a novel set in Portugal in 1939 may have very little to do with Portugal in 1939. I had been to India before, in the north, for five months. On that first trip I had come to the subcontinent completely unprepared. Actually, I had a preparation of one word. When I told a friend who knew the country well of my travel plans, he said casually, "They speak a funny English in India. They like words like bamboozle." I remembered his words as my plane started its descent towards Delhi, so the word bamboozle ...
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...strange year for Bowie. He had just been turned down by a fourth record company. His improbable, over-ambitious folk01 so young 02 animal nitrate 03 she's not dead mime trio Feathers was going nowhere. His 04 moving 05 pantomime horse 06 the drowners relationship with self-styled actress Hermione 07 sleeping pills 08 breakdown 09 metal mickey Farthingale was on the skids. And his grandiose10 animal lover 11 the next life sounding Beckenham Arts Lab – the venue where the photo was taken – was in truth just a So Young back room of the Three Tuns boozer in anderson / butler Beckenham high street. It was not a great time to be the future Thin White Duke. she can start to walk out when she wants because we're young, because we're gone But weird karma was afoot. He had written a we'll take the tide's electric mind, oh yeah? oh song called “space oddity”, Neil Armstrong was yeah fourth months away from sketching that crucial inaugural moonwalk. And David Bowie was five we're so young and so gone, let's chase the months away from making that giant step into dragon, oh what, in the vernacular, would be called “headfuck stardom” because we're young, because we're gone we'll scare the skies with tigers eyes, oh yeah? oh yeah “I like to imagine,” suggests Brett Anderson over yet more tea “that he’s just sitting there thinking we're so young and so gone, let's chase the that no one quite knows yet....
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...The New Astrology by SUZANNE WHITE Copyright © 1986 Suzanne White. All rights reserved. 2 Dedication book is dedicated to my mother, Elva Louise McMullen Hoskins, who is gone from this world, but who would have been happy to share this page with my courageous kids, April Daisy White and Autumn Lee White; my brothers, George, Peter and John Hoskins; my niece Pamela Potenza; and my loyal friends Kitti Weissberger, Val Paul Pierotti, Stan Albro, Nathaniel Webster, Jean Valère Pignal, Roselyne Viéllard, Michael Armani, Joseph Stoddart, Couquite Hoffenberg, Jean Louis Besson, Mary Lee Castellani, Paula Alba, Marguerite and Paulette Ratier, Ted and Joan Zimmermann, Scott Weiss, Miekle Blossom, Ina Dellera, Gloria Jones, Marina Vann, Richard and Shiela Lukins, Tony Lees-Johnson, Jane Russell, Jerry and Barbara Littlefield, Michele and Mark Princi, Molly Friedrich, Consuelo and Dick Baehr, Linda Grey, Clarissa and Ed Watson, Francine and John Pascal, Johnny Romero, Lawrence Grant, Irma Kurtz, Gene Dye, Phyllis and Dan Elstein, Richard Klein, Irma Pride Home, Sally Helgesen, Sylvie de la Rochefoucauld, Ann Kennerly, David Barclay, John Laupheimer, Yvon Lebihan, Bernard Aubin, Dédé Laqua, Wolfgang Paul, Maria José Desa, Juliette Boisriveaud, Anne Lavaur, and all the others who so dauntlessly stuck by me when I was at my baldest and most afraid. Thanks, of course, to my loving doctors: James Gaston, Richard Cooper, Yves Decroix, Jean-Claude Durand, Michel Soussaline and...
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...came into London docks of which he was the owner; he had no public employment; he had never been entered at any of the Inns of Court, either at the Temple, or Lincoln’s Inn, or Gray’s Inn; nor had his voice ever resounded in the Court of Chancery, or in the Exchequer, or the Queen’s Bench, or the Ecclesiastical Courts. He certainly was not a manufacturer; nor was he a merchant or a gentleman farmer. His name was strange to the scientific and learned societies, and he never was known to take part in the sage deliberations of the Royal Institution or the London Institution, the Artisan’s Association, or the Institution of Arts and Sciences. He belonged, in fact, to none of the numerous societies which swarm in the English capital, from the Harmonic to that of the Entomologists, founded mainly for the purpose of abolishing pernicious...
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...Praise for the Shiva Trilogy ‘Amish’s mythical imagination mines the past and taps into the possibilities of the future. His book series, archetypal and stirring, unfolds the deepest recesses of the soul as well as our collective consciousness.’ – Deepak Chopra, world-renowned spiritual guru and bestselling author ‘Amish is a fresh new voice in Indian writing – steeped in myth and history, with a fine eye for detail and a compelling narrative style.’ – Shashi Tharoor, Minister of State in the Indian government and celebrated author ‘Furious action jumps off every page.’ – Anil Dharker, renowned journalist and author ‘Tripathi’s Shiva Trilogy is already being touted as India’s Lord of the Rings.’ – Hindustan Times ‘…Amish has mastered the art of gathering, interpreting and presenting India’s many myths, folklores and legends, and blending all of that into fast-paced thrillers that change your views about gods, cultures, histories, demons and heroes, forever.’ – Hi Blitz ‘Amish’s Shiva Trilogy has a refreshing storyline… The narration forces you to impatiently turn the page to know what secret is going to be revealed about the “Neelkanth” next.’ – The Telegraph ‘It’s a labour of love... Amish also humanizes his characters, something which most popular Indian writers fail miserably at.’ – Mint ‘Amish’s philosophy of tolerance, his understanding of mythology and his avowed admiration for Shiva are evident in his best-selling works.’ – Verve ‘Tripathi is...
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...Jurassic Park Michael Crichton Copyright Michael Crichton (c) 1991 All Rights Reserved The right of Michael Crichton to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. First published in Great Britain in 1991 by the Random Century Group 20 Vauxhall Bridge Rd, London SWIV 2SA Century Hutchinson South Africa (Pty) Ltd PO Box 337, Bergvlei 2012 South Africa Random Century Australia Pty Ltd 20 Alfred St, Milsons Point, Sydney, NSW 2061 Australia Random Century New Zealand Ltd PO Box 40-086, Glenfield, Auckland 10 New Zealand A CIP Catalogue Record for this book is available from the British Library ISBN: 0 7126 4686 8 Printed in England by Clays Ltd, St Ives plc For A-M and T "Reptiles are abhorrent because of their cold body, pale color, cartilaginous skeleton, filthy skin, fierce aspect, calculating eye, offensive smell, harsh voice, squalid habitation, and terrible venom; wherefore their Creator has not exerted his powers to make many of them." LINNAEUS, 1797 "You cannot recall a new form of life." ERWIN CHARGAFF, 1972 Introduction "The InGen Incident" The late twentieth century has witnessed a scientific gold rush of astonishing proportions: the headlong and furious haste to commercialize genetic engineering. This enterprise has proceeded so rapidly-with so little outside commentary-that its dimensions and implications are hardly understood at all. Biotechnology promises the...
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...Salman Rushdie Midnight's Children First published in 1981 Excerpts from the Koran come from the Penguin Classics edition, translated by N. J. Dawood, copyright (c) 1956, 1959,1966,1968,1974. for Zafar Rushdie who, contrary to all expectations, was born in the afternoon Contents Book One The perforated sheet Mercurochrome Hit-the-spittoon Under the carpet A public announcement Many-headed monsters Methwold Tick, tock Book Two The fisherman's pointing finger Snakes and ladders Accident in a washing-chest All-India radio Love in Bombay My tenth birthday At the Pioneer Cafe Alpha and Omega The Kolynos Kid Commander Sabarmati's baton Revelations Movements performed by pepperpots Drainage and the desert Jamila Singer How Saleem achieved purity Book Three The buddha In the Sundarbans Sam and the Tiger The shadow of the Mosque A wedding Midnight Abracadabra Book One The perforated sheet I was born in the city of Bombay ... once upon a time. No, that won't do, there's no getting away from the date: I was born in Doctor Narlikar's Nursing Home on August 15th, 1947. And the time? The time matters, too. Well then: at night. No, it's important to be more ... On the stroke of midnight, as a matter of fact. Clock-hands joined palms in respectful greeting as I came. Oh, spell it out, spell it out: at the precise instant of India's arrival at independence, I tumbled forth into the world. There were gasps. And, outside the...
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...Mani Obhrai was born and lives in London, which is somewhere in the United Kingdom. He enjoys tea, chips, beer, cricket, Morris dancing, bulldogs and double-decker buses. He is regularly spotted wearing a pin-striped suit, carrying a newspaper under his arm, shouting, “Cheerio!” False Memory 15 stories that I think are actually true First published 2007 This paperback edition published 2007 Copyright © 2007 by Mani Obhrai A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library ISBN 978-1-84799-022-8 1 This book is dedicated to those who have strived to make my life easier. For the most part, these people probably know who they are, but in case there is any doubt, they are listed below. If you did not make my life easier in any way, but would still like, for some reason, to have this book dedicated to you, please write your name in the space provided below and feel free to show it to your friends and loved ones, or simply to people you might wish to impress. Thanks to: Paige Baird, _____________, Serena Obhrai, Greer Baird, Indy Lalli and Amy Laurence for all their help with editing and moral support. Introduction by the author The triangular white stain The great pencil heist of ‘85 Willie’s accident Rental van Carly Afflicted ICE NO ICE Bursting Plastic and clicks Whisky Squiggle Country and western Double-bill The unexpected shadow The chocolate binge 1 2 4 7 10 13 16 20 22 27 31 36 41 49 55 60 Introduction by the author happened...
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...The Philosopher’s Stone by Colin Wilson PANTHER, GRANADA PUBLISHING London Toronto Sydney New York Published by Granada Publishing Limited in Panther Books 1974 Reprinted 1978 ISBN 0 586 03943 0 First published in Great Britain by Arthur Barker Limited 1969 Copyright © Colin Wilson 1969 Granada Publishing Limited Frogmore, St Albans, Herts, AL2 2NF and 3 Upper James Street, London, WIR 4BP 1221 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020, USA 117 York Street, Sydney, NSW 2000, Australia 100 Skyway Avenue, Toronto, Ontario, Canada Mgw 3A6 Trio City, Coventry Street, Johannesburg 2001, South Africa CML Centre, Queen & Wyndham, Auckland, New Zealand Made and printed in Great Britain by Hazell Watson & Viney Ltd Aylesbury, Bucks Set in Linotype Pilgrim This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. Scanned : Mr Blue Sky Proofed : It’s Not Raining Date : 09 February 2002 PREFATORY NOTE Bernard Shaw concluded his preface to Back to Methuselah with the hope that ‘a hundred apter and more elegant parables by younger hands will soon leave mine... far behind’. Perhaps the thought of trying to leave Shaw far behind has scared off would-be competitors. Or perhaps - what is altogether...
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...SIDDHARTHA An Indian Tale Hermann Hesse THE INTERNET ARCHIVE The Presidio San Francisco Contents FIRST PART THE SON OF THE BRAHMAN WITH THE SAMANAS GOTAMA AWAKENING SECOND PART KAMALA WITH THE CHILDLIKE PEOPLE SANSARA BY THE RIVER THE FERRYMAN THE SON OM GOVINDA 3 5 15 27 39 45 47 65 77 89 103 119 131 141 1 2 This etext was produced by Michael Pullen globaltraveler5565@yahoo.com, with original translations made by: Gunther Olesch, Anke Dreher, Amy Coulter, Stefan Langer, Semyon Chaichenets. Proofreading corrections were done by Chandra Yenco cyenco@dnet.net.id and Isaac Jones ijones@cis.ohiostate.edu. 3 4 FIRST PART To Romain Rolland, my dear friend 5 6 SIDDHARTHA THE SON OF THE BRAHMAN N THE SHADE of the house, in the sunshine of the riverbank near the boats, in the shade of the Salwood forest, in the shade of the fig tree is where Siddhartha grew up, the handsome son of the Brahman, the young falcon, together with his friend Govinda, son of a Brahman. The sun tanned his light shoulders by the banks of the river when bathing, performing the sacred ablutions, the sacred offerings. In the mango grove, shade poured into his black eyes, when playing as a boy, when his mother sang, when the sacred offerings were made, when his father, the scholar, taught him, when the wise men talked. For a long time, Siddhartha had been partaking in the discussions of the wise men, practising debate with Govinda, practising with Govinda the art of...
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...would set up their tents near the village, and with a great uproar of pipes and kettledrums they would display new inventions. First they brought the magnet. A heavy gypsy with an untamed beard and sparrow hands, who introduced himself as Melquíades, put on a bold public demonstration of what he himself called the eighth wonder of the learned al-chemists of Macedonia. He went from house to house dragging two metal ingots and everybody was amazed to see pots, pans, tongs, and braziers tumble down from their places and beams creak from the desperation of nails and screws trying to emerge, and even objects that had been lost for a long time appeared from where they had been searched for most and went dragging along in turbulent confusion behind Melquíades’ magical irons. “Things have a life of their own,” the gypsy proclaimed with a harsh accent. “It’s simply a matter of waking up their souls.” José Arcadio Buendía, whose unbridled imagination always went beyond the genius of nature and even beyond miracles and magic, thought that it would be possible to make use of that useless invention to extract gold from the bowels of the earth. Melquíades, who was an honest man, warned him: “It won’t work for that.” But José Arcadio Buendía at that time did not believe in the honesty of gypsies, so...
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... How these papers have been placed in sequence will be made manifest in the reading of them. All needless matters have been eliminated, so that a history almost at variance with the possibilities of latter-day belief may stand forth as simple fact. There is throughout no statement of past things wherein memory may err, for all the records chosen are exactly contemporary, given from the standpoints and within the range of knowledge of those who made them. Table of Contents 1 Jonathan Harker’s Journal .................................................... 1 2 Jonathan Harker’s Journal .................................................. 17 3 Jonathan Harker’s Journal .................................................. 33 4 Jonathan Harker’s Journal .................................................. 49 5 Letter From Miss Mina Murray To Miss Lucy Westenra ... 65 6 Mina Murray’s Journal ....................................................... 75 7 Cutting From “The Dailygraph”, August 8......................... 91 8 Mina Murray’s Journal ..................................................... 107 9 Letter, Mina Harker To Lucy Westenra .......................... 125 10 Letter, Dr. Seward To Hon. Arthur Holmwood .............. 141 11 Lucy Westenra’s Diary ........................................................
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...Chinua Achebe A Man of the People First published in 1966 For Chris CHAPTER ONE No one can deny that Chief the Honourable M.A. Nanga, M.P., was the most approachable politician in the country. Whether you asked in the city or in his home village, Anata, they would tell you he was a man of the people. I have to admit this from the onset or else the story I'm going to tell will make no sense. That afternoon he was due to address the staff and students of the Anata Grammar School where I was teaching at the time. But as usual in those highly political times the villagers moved in and virtually took over. The Assembly Hall must have carried well over thrice its capacity. Many villagers sat on the floor, right up to the foot of the dais. I took one look and decided it was just as well we had to stay outside---at least for the moment. Five or six dancing groups were performing at different points in the compound. The popular 'Ego Women's Party' wore a new uniform of expensive accra cloth. In spite of the din you could still hear as clear as a bird the high- powered voice of their soloist, whom they admiringly nicknamed 'Grammarphone'. Personally I don't care too much for our women's dancing but you just had to listen whenever Grammar-phone sang. She was now praising Micah's handsomeness, which she likened to the perfect, sculpted beauty of a carved eagle, and his popularity which would be the envy of the proverbial traveller-to-distant-places who must not...
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...196 The Harder Right — 210 Notes — 222 THE HARDER RIGHT 3 Passing Stranger A WOMAN. Perhaps that’s why. The first and still the only in the clergy association. Or maybe it is because of where she is from. No one from San Francisco had come to live here before. Occasionally an outsider moved to this town, in the northern tier of the state, but the flow is almost always in the other direction, away from, not into. And the few that do come to stay aren’t from California, a place that to this day, decades after it had long faded, is believed to be an incubator for radical lifestyles and subversive politics. 4 Arthur Dobrin Or perhaps her name—Ailanthus—a strange one, where here, if you are named after flora it is Rose or Violet or another sweet smelling flower that could be grown in the garden. It must be a name given to her by a hippie mother, a band given to bestowing peculiar names on their children. No one knows of a girl being named after a tree. They never heard of an ailanthus before she arrived, certainly never saw one growing in this land where trees are conifers and hardwoods. But her mother, from Brooklyn, had seen many sprouting in unexpected places and thought them beautiful, with clusters of yellowish flowers that turn rust red throughout the seasons, the tree growing where no other would take root. When they discovered...
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