Anthropology of an American Girl

Zusatztext “Remember what it feels like to be seventeen? Eveline Auerbach sounds like somebody many of us knew—or were. . . . A realistic! resonant! and universal story.”— O: The Oprah Magazine   “As vast and ambitious as the country itself.”—Carolyn See! The Washington Post “If publishers could figure out a way to turn crack into a book! it’d read a lot like [ Anthropology of an American Girl ]. Hamann’s debut traces the sensual! passionate! and lonely interior of a young woman artist growing up in windswept East Hampton at the end of the 1970s. . . . A marvelously complex and tragic figure of disconnection! startlingly real and exposed at all times.”— Publishers Weekly (starred review) “[A] page-turning read [that] rivets through a rawness of complex emotion . . . Like Jane Austin! George Eliot or Edith Wharton! [Hamann] critiques her era and culture through the tale of a precocious young woman buffeted by the accidents! values and consequences of her age.”— Providence Journal-Bulletin    “Utterly original . . . a rare kind of novel—at once sprawling and intimate—whose excellence matches its grand ambition.”— The Dallas Morning News   “[A] serious descendant of the work of D. H. Lawrence.”— The Washington Post Informationen zum Autor Hilary Thayer Hamann Klappentext This is what it's like to be a high-school-age girl.To forsake the boyfriend you once adored.To meet the love of your life, who just happens to be your teacher.To discover for the first time the power of your body and mind. This is what it's like to be a college-age woman.To live through heartbreak.To suffer the consequences of your choices.To depend on others for survival but to have no one to trust but yourself. This is Anthropology of an American Girl.A literary sensation, this extraordinarily candid novel about the experience of growing up female in America will strike a nerve in readers of all ages. Leseprobe Chapter One Kate turned to check the darkening clouds and the white arc of her throat looked long like the neck of a preening swan. We pedaled past the mansions on Lily Pond Lane and the sky set down, resting its gravid belly against the earth. “Hurry,” I heard her call through the clack of spokes. “Rain’s coming.” She rode faster, and I did also, though I liked the rain and I felt grateful for the changes it wrought. Nothing is worse than the mixture of boredom and anticipation, the way the two twist together, breeding malcontentedly. I opened my mouth to the mist, trapping some of the raindrops that were just forming, and I could feel the membranes pop as I passed, which was sad, like breaking a spider’s web. Sometimes you can’t help but destroy the intricate things in life. At Georgica Beach we sat on the concrete step of the empty lifeguard building. The bicycles lay collapsed at our ankles, rear wheels lightly spinning. Kate lit a joint and passed it to me. I drew from it slowly. It burned my throat, searing and disinfecting it, making me think of animal skins tanned to make teepees. Indians used to get high, and when they did, they felt high just the same as me. “Still do get high,” I corrected myself. Indians aren’t extinct. “What did you say?” Kate asked. “Nothing,” I said. “Just thinking of Indians.” Her left foot and my right foot were touching. They were the same size and we shared shoes. I leaned forward and played with the plastic-coated tip of her sneaker lace, poking it into the rivet holes of my Tretorns as the rain began to descend halfheartedly before us. In my knapsack I found some paper and a piece of broken charcoal, and I began to sketch Kate. The atmosphere conformed to her bones the way a pillow meets a sleeping head. I tried to recall the story of the cloth of St. Veronica—something about Christ leaving his portrait in blood ...

Relazione

Remember what it feels like to be seventeen? Eveline Auerbach sounds like somebody many of us knew or were. . . . A realistic, resonant, and universal story. O: The Oprah Magazine
 
As vast and ambitious as the country itself. Carolyn See, The Washington Post

If publishers could figure out a way to turn crack into a book, it d read a lot like [Anthropology of an American Girl]. Hamann s debut traces the sensual, passionate, and lonely interior of a young woman artist growing up in windswept East Hampton at the end of the 1970s. . . . A marvelously complex and tragic figure of disconnection, startlingly real and exposed at all times. Publishers Weekly (starred review)

[A] page-turning read [that] rivets through a rawness of complex emotion . . . Like Jane Austin, George Eliot or Edith Wharton, [Hamann] critiques her era and culture through the tale of a precocious young woman buffeted by the accidents, values and consequences of her age. Providence Journal-Bulletin
 
  Utterly original . . . a rare kind of novel at once sprawling and intimate whose excellence matches its grand ambition. The Dallas Morning News
 
[A] serious descendant of the work of D. H. Lawrence. The Washington Post

Dettagli sul prodotto

• Autori: Hilary T Hamann, Hilary Th. Hamann, Hilary Thayer Hamann
• Editore: Random House USA
• Lingue: Inglese
• Formato: Tascabile
• Pubblicazione: 14.06.2011
• EAN: 9780385527156
• ISBN: 978-0-385-52715-6
• Pagine: 576
• Dimensioni: 140 mm x 210 mm x 31 mm
• Serie: Random House Reader's Circle; Random House Reader's Circle
• Categoria: Narrativa > Romanzi