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A review by lessidisa
Antarctica by Claire Keegan
2.0
I will learn fifteen types of wind and know the weight of tomorrow's rain by the rustle in the sycamores.
Livre pour finir en dépression. Je l'aurais DNF mais comme ce sont des nouvelles j'ai quand même réussi à aller au bout, mais clairement ce livre était une perte de mon temps. Le style est intéressant mais généralement les nouvelles n'ont pas de chute, où bien elle ne permet pas d'établir une conclusion. Erreur 404. Ce livre rappelle la bizarrerie des histoires de Shirley Jackson.
Her telling me the way my father's hands bruised her for fifteen years, the difference between loving and liking somebody. How she didn't like me any more than him because I had the same cruel eyes.
Once, after the headmaster hit Betty, her nose would not stop bleeding and he sent her out to the stream to wash her face, but she ran home across the fields and told her mother, who walked her back up to school, into the classroom, and told the headmaster that if he laid so much as another finger on her girls, he'd get a worse death than Billy the Buttermaker (who had been savagely murdered down south a few days back).
Livre pour finir en dépression. Je l'aurais DNF mais comme ce sont des nouvelles j'ai quand même réussi à aller au bout, mais clairement ce livre était une perte de mon temps. Le style est intéressant mais généralement les nouvelles n'ont pas de chute, où bien elle ne permet pas d'établir une conclusion. Erreur 404. Ce livre rappelle la bizarrerie des histoires de Shirley Jackson.
Her telling me the way my father's hands bruised her for fifteen years, the difference between loving and liking somebody. How she didn't like me any more than him because I had the same cruel eyes.
Once, after the headmaster hit Betty, her nose would not stop bleeding and he sent her out to the stream to wash her face, but she ran home across the fields and told her mother, who walked her back up to school, into the classroom, and told the headmaster that if he laid so much as another finger on her girls, he'd get a worse death than Billy the Buttermaker (who had been savagely murdered down south a few days back).