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Zusatztext 90858863 Informationen zum Autor Reif Larsen is the author of the novels, I Am Radar and The Selected Works Of T.S. Spivet , which was a New York Times Bestseller and adapted for the screen by Jean-Pierre Jeunet ( Amélie ). Larsen’s essays and fiction have appeared in The New York Times , The Guardian , GQ , Tin House , McSweeney’s , Travel & Leisure , one story , The Millions , and The Believer . He recently founded The Future of Small Cities Institute. He lives in Troy, NY. Klappentext "Big! beautiful! ambitious . . . It takes narrative magic to pull off such a loopy combination! and luckily! Reif Larsen has it to spare. His prose is addictive and enchanting." -Los Angeles Times The moment just before Radar Radmanovic is born! the hospital's electricity fails. The delivery takes place in total darkness. Lights back on! everyone present sees a healthy baby boy-with jet-black skin-born to the stunned white parents. No one understands the uncanny electrical event or the unexpected skin color. "A childbirth is an explosion!" an ancient physician explains. "Some shrapnel is inevitable! isn't it?" A kaleidoscopic novel both heartbreaking and dazzling! Reif Larsen's I Am Radar rapidly explodes outward from Radar's strange birth. In World War II Norway! a cadre of imprisoned schoolteachers founds a radical secret society that will hover on the margins of history for decades to come! performing acts of radical art and experimental science in the midst of conflict zones from embattled Bosnia to Khmer Rouge Cambodia and the contemporary Congo. All of these stories are linked by Radar-now a gifted radio operator living in the New Jersey Meadowlands-who struggles with love! a set of hapless parents! and a terrible medical affliction that he has only just begun to comprehend. Drawing on the furthest reaches of quantum physics! forgotten history! and mind-bending art! Larsen's I Am Radar is a triumph of storytelling at its most primal! elegant! and epic: a breathtaking journey through humanity's darkest hours! yet one that arrives at a place of shocking wonder and redemption.Praise for I Am Radar: "A deeply patterned narrative that darts easily from small-bore domestic dramas to sweeping historical catastrophes with just the right fillip of silliness and levity to keep the whole text eminently approachable." -The New York Times Book Review ***This excerpt is from an advance uncorrected proof*** Copyright © 2015 Reif Larsen Elizabeth, New Jersey April 17, 1975 It was just after midnight in birthing room 4C and Dr. Sherman, the mustached obstetrician presiding over the delivery, was sweating lightly into his cotton underwear, holding out his hands like a beggar, ready to receive the imminent cranium. Without warning, the room was plunged into total darkness. Though he had been delivering babies for more than thirty years now, Dr. Sherman was so taken aback by this complete loss of vision that he briefly considered, and then rejected, the possibility of his own death. Desperate to get his bearings, he wheeled around, trying to locate the sans serif glow of the emergency exit sign across the hall, but this too had gone dark. “Doctor?” the nurse called next to him. “The exit!” he hissed into the darkness. All through the hospital, a wash of panic spread over staff and patients alike as life support machines failed and surgeons were left holding beating hearts in pitch-black operating theaters. None of the backup systems—the two generators in the basement, the giant, deep- cycle batteries outside the ICU, usually so reliable in blackouts such as this one— appeared to be working. It was a catastrophe in the making. Electricity had quite simply vanished. In birthing room 4C, Dr. Sherman was jolted into action by Charlene,...
