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Zusatztext " The Chocolate War is masterfully structured and rich in theme; the action is well crafted, well timed, suspenseful; complex ideas develop and unfold with clarity."- The New York Times Book Review "The characterizations of all the boys are superb... This novel [is] unique in its uncompromising portrait of human cruelty and conformity."- School Library Journal , starred review "The novel is cleverly written with a good sense of the realistic and a good ear for dialouge, qualities which will attract any reader."- Bestsellers "Robert Cormier has written a brilliant novel."- Children's Book Revie Service Informationen zum Autor Robert Cormier (1925-2000) changed the face of young adult literature over the course of his illustrious career. His many books include The Chocolate War , I Am the Cheese , Fade , Tenderness , After the First Death , Heroes , Frenchtown Summer , and The Rag and Bone Shop . In 1991 he received the Margaret A. Edwards Award, honoring his lifetime contribution to writing for teens. Klappentext One of the most controversial YA novels of all time! The Chocolate War is a modern masterpiece that speaks to fans of S. E. Hinton's The Outsiders and John Knowles's A Separate Peace. After suffering rejection from seven major publishers! The Chocolate War made its debut in 1974! and quickly became a bestselling-and provocative-classic for young adults. This chilling portrait of an all-boys prep school casts an unflinching eye on the pitfalls of conformity and corruption in our most elite cultural institutions. "Masterfully structured and rich in theme; the action is well crafted! well timed! suspenseful."-The New York Times Book Review "The characterizations of all the boys are superb."-School Library Journal! starred review "Compellingly immediate. . . . Readers will respect the uncompromising ending."-Kirkus Reviews! starred review An ALA Best Book for Young Adults A School Library Journal Best Book of the Year A Kirkus Reviews Editor's Choice A New York Times Outstanding Book of the Year Leseprobe THEY MURDERED HIM. As he turned to take the ball, a dam burst against the side of his head and a hand grenade shattered his stomach. Engulfed by nausea, he pitched toward the grass. His mouth encountered gravel, and he spat frantically, afraid that some of his teeth had been knocked out. Rising to his feet, he saw the field through drifting gauze but held on until everything settled into place, like a lens focusing, making the world sharp again, with edges. The second play called for a pass. Fading back, he picked up a decent block and cocked his arm, searching for a receiver - maybe the tall kid they called The Goober. Suddenly, he was caught from behind and whirled violently, a toy boat caught in a whirlpool. Landing on his knees, hugging the ball, he urged himself to ignore the pain that gripped his groin, knowing that it was important to betray no sign of distress, remembering The Goober's advice, "Coach is testing you, testing, and he's looking for guts." I've got guts. Jerry murmured, getting up by degrees, careful not to displace any of his bones or sinews. A telephone rang in his ears. Hello, hello, I'm still here. When he moved his lips, he tasted the acid of dirt and grass and gravel. He was aware of the other players around him, helmeted and grotesque, creatures from an unknown world. He had never felt so lonely in his life, abandoned, defenseless. On the third play, he was hit simultaneously by three of them: one, his knees; another, his stomach; a third, his head - the helmet no protection at all. His body seemed to telescope into itself but all the parts didn't fit, and he was stunned by the knowledge that pain isn't just one thing - it is cunning and various, ...
