The Luminaries

- 书名:The Luminaries
- 作者: EleanorCatton
- 格式:EPUB,AZW3,MOBI
- 时间:2024-06-20
- 评分:
- ISBN:9780316074315
From the acclaimed author of The Rehearsal comes a novel about a young woman on trial for murder in nineteenth-century New Zealand.
On a blustery January day, a prostitute is arrested. In the midst of the 1866 gold rush on the coast of New Zealand, this might have gone unnoticed. But three notable events occur on that same day: a luckless drunk dies, a wealthy man vanishes, and a ship's captain of ill repute cancels all of his business and weighs anchor, as if making an escape. Anna Wetherell, the prostitute in question, is connected to all three men.
This sequence of apparently coincidental events provokes a secret council of powerful townsmen to investigate. But they are interrupted by the arrival of a stranger: young Walter Moody, who has a secret of his own...
THE LUMINARIES is an intricately crafted feat of storytelling, a mystery that reveals the ways our interconnected lives reshape our destinies.
Winner of the 2013 Man Booker Prize
Born in Canada and raised in New Zealand, Eleanor Catton, 27, completed an MA in Creative Writing at Victoria University in 2007 and won the Adam Prize in Creative Writing for her first novel, The Rehearsal, which was also long-listed for the Orange Prize and short-listed for the Dylan Thomas Prize. She studied at the Iowa Writers' Workshop as the recipient of the 2008 Glenn Sc...
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DieselNGas2021-08-14完全没有必要这么写这么多页, 但是书封太好看了
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奶哥2016-09-21感觉这么多年英语白学了...
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WJ2014-12-1719世纪新西兰淘金潮背景的悬疑故事。对于喜欢悬疑故事的读者来说,不推荐!冗长,重复已知内容不止一遍,花里胡哨太多。
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熊仔面2024-04-10孤独的感觉很可怕,真正的孤独一人。当我不是孤身一人时,才喜欢享受孤寂的感觉。
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blissedge2017-03-23Like most excessively beautiful persons, he had studied his own reflection minutely and, in a way, knew himself from the outside best; he was always in some chamber of his mind perceiving himself from the exterior.
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blissedge2017-03-23The twelve men congregated in the smoking room of the Crown Hotel gave the impression of a party accidentally met. From the variety of their comportment and dress—frock coats, tailcoats, Norfolk jackets with buttons of horn, yellow moleskin, cambric, and twill—they might have been twelve strangers on a railway car, each bound for a separate quarter of a city that possessed fog and tides enough to divide them; indeed, the studied isolation of each man as he pored over his paper, or leaned forward to tap his ashes into the grate, or placed the splay of his hand upon the baize to take his shot at billiards, conspired to form the very type of bodily silence that occurs, late in the evening, on a public railway—deadened here not by the slur and clunk of the coaches, but by the fat clatter of th...
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