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Double Vision: A Novel (2003)
~EN HC USISBN: 9780374209056 bzw. 0374209057, Band: 39, vermutlich in Englisch, Farrar, Straus and Giroux, gebundenes Buch, gebraucht, guter Zustand.
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Von Händler/Antiquariat, bookexpress.co.nz.
Farrar, Straus and Giroux. Very Good. 5.5 x 0.99 x 8.25 inches. Hardcover. 2003. 272 pages. A gripping novel about the effects of violence on the journalists and artists who have dedicated themselves to repr esenting it In the aftermath of September 11, reeling from the e ffects of reporting from New York City, two British journalists, a writer, Stephen Sharkey, and a photographer, Ben Frobisher, par t ways. Stephen, facing the almost simultaneous discovery that hi s wife is having an affair, returns to England shattered; he divo rces and quits his job. Ben returns to his vocation. He follows t he war on terror to Afghanistan and is killed. Stephen retreats to a cottage in the country to write a book about violence, and what he sees as the reporting journalist's or photographer's comp licity in it; it is a book that will build in large part on Ben's writing and photography. Ben's widow, Kate, a sculptor, lives ne arby, and as she and Stephen learn about each other their world s peedily shrinks, in pleasing but also disturbing ways; Stephen's maid, with whom he has begun an affair, was once lovers with Kate 's new studio assistant, an odd local man named Peter. As these c onnections become clear, Peter's strange behavior around Stephen and Kate begins to take on threatening implications. The sinister events that take place in this small town, so far from the theat ers of war Stephen has retreated from, will force him to act inst inctively, violently, and to face his most painful revelations ab out himself. Editorial Reviews From Publishers Weekly The quai nt English village of Barker's 10th novel is a world away from th e wars in Bosnia, Afghanistan and elsewhere that have scarred its main characters, but the specter of violence still looms. Kate F robisher, a sculptor working on a monumental figure of Jesus, is recovering from a car accident and grieving for her husband, Ben, a war photographer killed in Afghanistan. Stephen Sharkey, a jou rnalist (and friend of Ben's) suffering from post-traumatic stres s syndrome after covering Bosnia, Rwanda and other conflicts, has left London and a failed marriage to write a book about the way wars are represented. An ensemble cast gathers around these two h aunted figures: Stephen's brother Robert and his family; Alec Bra ithewaite, the friendly vicar, and his Cambridge-bound daughter J ustine; and Peter Wingrave, Kate's studio assistant and Justine's ex. A predictable mix of domestic drama (the Sharkeys' marital w oes, a romance between Stephen and Justine) plays out against the backdrop of current events, but the real theme of this insightfu l, harrowing novel is violence: its impact on victims, but also o n those who witness it and those who tell the tale. As Barker's c haracters are forced to acknowledge, aggression and brutality are close at hand. And Barker spares no unsettling effect animals ar e turned into bloody heaps of roadkill; Kate grows paranoid about solitary Peter; Justine is the victim of a terrible beating. The effect of such unrelenting darkness is to render the story less dramatic and convincing, but this is still a gripping novel, note worthy for the author's gifts as a stylist and her formidable, en gaged intelligence. Copyright ® Reed Business Information, a divi sion of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved. From The New Yor ker Kate Frobisher is a recently widowed sculptor, who, temporari ly crippled by a car accident, is forced to employ help to comple te a fifteen-foot sculpture of Christ. Nearby lives a colleague o f her late husband, a foreign correspondent who is taking a break from Bosnia and Afghanistan to write a book about ways of repres enting war. In his downtime, he philosophizes with Kate about voy eurism and human suffering. There are flashes in Barker's tenth n ovel of the electrifying prose that readers have come to expect f rom her. But its central preoccupation, with social and moral vis ion, is shamelessly heavy-handed, and the novel is further encumb ered by a jumble of lacklustre minor characters and grand themes. Copyright ® 2005 The New Yorker From Booklist One doesn't oft en find the caliber of writing displayed in Barker's latest, a co mpulsively readable novel whose lofty themes include the costs of being emotionally vulnerable and the role of art in dangerous ti mes. Seemingly effortlessly, Barker creates a charged atmosphere of heightened emotions and physical danger as she immerses reader s in the world of grieving widow Kate Frosbisher. Her husband, Be n, a photojournalist, has been killed in Afghanistan, and she kno ws with implacable certainty that she will never recover from thi s loss; she can only try to learn to live with it. Her husband's partner, Stephen Sharkey, is also mourning Ben's death but has be en doubly devastated upon learning of his wife's adultery. When S tephen settles into a cottage in the British countryside near Kat e, they learn that the comforts of a rural retreat can be illusor y after an accident, a robbery, and a beating shatter their attem pts to heal. Barker herself denies readers the comfort of a tidy plot resolution, intentionally underscoring the chaos that lurks just beneath the civilized veneer of modern life. Joanne Wilkinso n Copyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved From Booklist One doesn't often find the caliber of writing displ ayed in Barker's latest, a compulsively readable novel whose loft y themes include the costs of being emotionally vulnerable and th e role of art in dangerous times. Seemingly effortlessly, Barker creates a charged atmosphere of heightened emotions and physical danger as she immerses readers in the world of grieving widow Kat e Frosbisher. Her husband, Ben, a photojournalist, has been kille d in Afghanistan, and she knows with implacable certainty that sh e will never recover from this loss; she can only try to learn to live with it. Her husband's partner, Stephen Sharkey, is also mo urning Ben's death but has been doubly devastated upon learning o f his wife's adultery. When Stephen settles into a cottage in the British countryside near Kate, they learn that the comforts of a rural retreat can be illusory after an accident, a robbery, and a beating shatter their attempts to heal. Barker herself denies r eaders the comfort of a tidy plot resolution, intentionally under scoring the chaos that lurks just beneath the civilized veneer of modern life. Joanne Wilkinson Copyright © American Library Assoc iation. All rights reserved About the Author Pat Barker is the a uthor of nine novels, most recently Border Crossing. For her high ly acclaimed Regeneration Trilogy, she was awarded the Guardian f iction prize and the Booker Prize. She lives in England. Excerp t. ® Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved. Excerpt from D ouble Vision by Pat Barker. Copyright © 2003 by Pat Barker. To be published in December, 2003 by Farrar, Straus & Giroux, LLC. All rights reserved. 1 CHRISTMAS WAS OVER. Feeling a shame-faced p leasure in the restoration of normality, Kate stripped the tree o f lights and decorations, cut off the main branches and dragged t he trunk down to the compost heap at the bottom of the garden. Th ere she stood looking back at the house, empty again now-her moth er and sister had left the morning after Boxing Day-seeing the li ghted windows and reflected firelight almost as if she were a str anger, shut out. A few specks of cold rain found her eyelids and mouth. All around her the forest waited, humped in silence. Shive ring, she ran back up the lawn. Gradually she re-established he r routine. Up early, across to the studio by eight, five hours' u nbroken work that generally left her knackered for the rest of th e day, though she forced herself to walk for an hour or two in th e afternoons. The weather turned colder, until one day, returni ng from her walk, she noticed that the big puddle immediately out side her front gate was filmed with ice, like a cataract dulling the pupil of an eye. She heated a bowl of soup, built up the fire and huddled over it, while outside the temperature dropped, stea dily, hour by hour, until a solitary brown oak leaf detaching its elf from the tree fell onto the frost-hard ground with a crackle that echoed through the whole forest. People had glutted themse lves on food and sociability over Christmas and New Year and want ed their own firesides, so the first few evenings of January were spent alone. But then Lorna and Michael Bradley asked her to the ir anniversary party and, though she was enjoying the almost mona stic rhythm of her present life, she accepted. Since Ben's death that had been her only rule: to refuse no invitation, to acknowle dge and return any small act of kindness-and it was working, she was getting through, she was surviving. Once there, she enjoyed the evening, in spite of having restricted herself to just two g lasses of wine, and by eleven was driving back along the forest r oad, her headlights revealing the pale trunks of beech trees, mus cled like athletes stripped off for a race. She was leaving a str etch of deciduous forest and entering Forestry Commission land, a cres of closely planted trees, rank upon rank of them, a green ar my marching down the hill. Her headlights scarcely pierced the da rkness between the pines, though here and there she glimpsed a ta ngle of dead wood and debris on the forest floor. She kept the wi ndows closed, a fug of warmth and music sealing her off from the outside world. The lighted car travelled along the road between t he thickly crowding trees like a blood corpuscle passing along a vein. Somewhere in the heart of the wood an antlered head turned to watch her pass. Almost no traffic-she overtook a white van nea r the crossroads, but after that saw no other cars. The road dipp ed and rose, and then, no more than 400 yards from her home, wher e a stream overflowing in the recent heavy rains had run across t he road forming a stick of black ice, the car left the road. Th ere was no time to think. Trees loomed up, leapt towards her, bra nches shattered the windscreen, clawed at her eyes and throat. A crash and tearing of metal, then silence, except for the tinny be at of the music that kept on playing. One headlight shone at a st range angle, probing the thick resin-smelling branches that had c aught and netted the car. She lay, drifting in and out of consc iousness, aware that she mustn't try to move her head and neck. S he knew she was injured, perhaps seriously, though she felt littl e pain as long as she kept still. Saliva dribbled from the corner of her mouth, blood settled in one eye. After what seemed a lo ng time she heard the noise of an engine. Her own wrecked car fil led with shifting parallelograms of light and shade as the other car's headlights swept across it. The engine was switched off, fo otsteps rang clear on the road, slurred across the grass verge, a nd then a figure appeared at the window. A headless figure was al l she could see, since he didn't bend to look in. She tried to sp eak, but only a croak came out. He didn't move, didn't open the d oor, didn't check to see how she was, didn't ring or go for help. Just stood there, breathing. She tried to lift her head, but a spasm of pain shot down her spine and she knew she mustn't move. Slowly she slipped into unconsciousness, fighting all the way, t hen battled her way back to the surface, where now there were oth er voices, frightened voices-frightened of her, of what she'd bec ome. 'Ambulance,' she heard. 'Police.' Then the familiar soun d of somebody thumbing numbers into a mobile phone, and at last s he was able to let go and accept the dark. * * * In something too high, too tight, for a bed. White sheets pinned her legs dow n. Walls the colour of putty. Mum's voice, then Alice's, but she knew they couldn't be here, they'd left the day after Boxing Day, and so she refused to acknowledge them, these phantom relatives, and concentrated instead on getting some spit going in her mouth . Her tongue felt swollen, and was so dry it stuck to the roof of her mouth. 'Look,' said Alice. 'She wants a drink.' Her moth er's head came between her and the tight. 'Dead to the world. Can 't hear a word you're saying.' 'Oh, I don't know. They always s ay, don't they, Keep talking? You never know how much gets throug h.' Was she dying? Couldn't persuade herself it mattered much. Water ... Alice's scent, sharp and sweet. A spout pushed betw een her lips, jarred her teeth. Water, too much water, gagged, ch oked, spout pulled away, reinserted, gentler now, and she glugged , once, twice. Dribbles ran down the side of her neck, were dabbe d away on a cold flannel. She stared at the cracks in the ceiling , only to find them replaced, almost immediately, by her mother's and her sister's heads. 'Do you think she can hear us?' Mum SA id. She has been somewhere else. She remembers the trees, the d ark road, the branches pushing through broken glass, the man by t he window, breathing. But then it all begins to fade. She tried to turn her head and couldn't. Some kind of brace round her neck stopped her moving. Her right arm was swaddled against her side by the tight sheet. She could feel her arms, and her legs, and he r toes. She wiggled them to make sure, remembering how her father , right at the end of his long illness, after the stroke, had hat ed the arm he couldn't feel and kept pushing it away from him. At least she wasn't like that. It all still belonged to her, this b arren plain she looked down on from the height of her raised head , this fenland under its covering of snow. She started to drift off again, heard her mother say, 'We're only tiring her. I think we'd better go and let her sleep.' * * * Somebody had sent r oses. She opened her eyes and there they were, tight, formal, dar k red buds, like drops of blood in the white room, but her eyelid s were too heavy to go on looking, and when she opened them again the roses were gone. 0* * * As soon as she could support her self, they got her out of bed and made her sit in the armchair be side it. Her feet were cold. She was depressed, worried about the work she wasn't doing. She'd taken on a big commission, a huge C hrist for the cathedral, it should have been well on the way by n ow, and yet here she was, stuck in an armchair like an old woman, unable to move, helpless. The physiotherapist came to see her, and then she started regular sessions in the physiotherapy room, where she stared in the floor-to-ceiling mirrors at the necldess creature she'd become. 'Very good,' the uniformed girls kept say ing. 'Very good.' She hadn't been spoken to in such jolly, patron izing tones since she was in nappies. She smiled, desperation sim mering under the surface. Back on the ward, she set off down th e corridor clinging to the rail, forcing herself to keep walking, though each step sent twinges of pain up her spine. Now and then she met another patient, similarly handicapped, head on, and the n they'd pause, assess the extent of each other's disability, and decide, silently, which of them was better able to let go of the rail and stand unsupported while the other shuffled past. So muc h courage. So much decency. She was humbled by it. But then it was back to the ward. Her room overlooked a courtyard where even evergreen plants, deprived of light, sickened and died. 'I've g ot to get out of here,' she said, when Alec Braithewaite, the loc al vicar and also a friend, came to see her. He took a step bac kwards, raising his hands, pretending to be knocked over by her u rgency. 'Good morning, Kate.' She sighed, accepting the reproof . 'Good morning, Alec.' 'How are you? ' 'Going mad.' He cam e and sat beside the bed. 'Nobody likes hospitals. The main thing is to get better.' 'The main thing is the Christ.' He smiled . 'I'm pleased to hear you say so.' 'You know what I mean, Alec . My Christ.' 'Can you lift your arm?' She tried, as she trie d a hundred times a day. 'No.' 'When does it have to be finishe d?' 'May. In time for Founders' and Benefactors' Day.' 'That' s not too bad.' 'Alec, it's a massive figure. It's barely enoug h time if I were all right.' 'Can't you negotiate another date? ' 'I've never missed a deadline in my life.' She sat brooding , her chin sunk into the padded collar. She looked broken, Alec t hought, as he'd never seen her before, not even in the first week s after Ben's death. 'Then you're going to need help.' 'I don't want an assistant.' 'Other sculptors use them, don't they?' 'Yes.' He leaned forward. 'So what don't you like about them?' 'Where to start? For one thing, they're always art stude... .
Von Händler/Antiquariat, bookexpress.co.nz.
Farrar, Straus and Giroux. Very Good. 5.5 x 0.99 x 8.25 inches. Hardcover. 2003. 272 pages. A gripping novel about the effects of violence on the journalists and artists who have dedicated themselves to repr esenting it In the aftermath of September 11, reeling from the e ffects of reporting from New York City, two British journalists, a writer, Stephen Sharkey, and a photographer, Ben Frobisher, par t ways. Stephen, facing the almost simultaneous discovery that hi s wife is having an affair, returns to England shattered; he divo rces and quits his job. Ben returns to his vocation. He follows t he war on terror to Afghanistan and is killed. Stephen retreats to a cottage in the country to write a book about violence, and what he sees as the reporting journalist's or photographer's comp licity in it; it is a book that will build in large part on Ben's writing and photography. Ben's widow, Kate, a sculptor, lives ne arby, and as she and Stephen learn about each other their world s peedily shrinks, in pleasing but also disturbing ways; Stephen's maid, with whom he has begun an affair, was once lovers with Kate 's new studio assistant, an odd local man named Peter. As these c onnections become clear, Peter's strange behavior around Stephen and Kate begins to take on threatening implications. The sinister events that take place in this small town, so far from the theat ers of war Stephen has retreated from, will force him to act inst inctively, violently, and to face his most painful revelations ab out himself. Editorial Reviews From Publishers Weekly The quai nt English village of Barker's 10th novel is a world away from th e wars in Bosnia, Afghanistan and elsewhere that have scarred its main characters, but the specter of violence still looms. Kate F robisher, a sculptor working on a monumental figure of Jesus, is recovering from a car accident and grieving for her husband, Ben, a war photographer killed in Afghanistan. Stephen Sharkey, a jou rnalist (and friend of Ben's) suffering from post-traumatic stres s syndrome after covering Bosnia, Rwanda and other conflicts, has left London and a failed marriage to write a book about the way wars are represented. An ensemble cast gathers around these two h aunted figures: Stephen's brother Robert and his family; Alec Bra ithewaite, the friendly vicar, and his Cambridge-bound daughter J ustine; and Peter Wingrave, Kate's studio assistant and Justine's ex. A predictable mix of domestic drama (the Sharkeys' marital w oes, a romance between Stephen and Justine) plays out against the backdrop of current events, but the real theme of this insightfu l, harrowing novel is violence: its impact on victims, but also o n those who witness it and those who tell the tale. As Barker's c haracters are forced to acknowledge, aggression and brutality are close at hand. And Barker spares no unsettling effect animals ar e turned into bloody heaps of roadkill; Kate grows paranoid about solitary Peter; Justine is the victim of a terrible beating. The effect of such unrelenting darkness is to render the story less dramatic and convincing, but this is still a gripping novel, note worthy for the author's gifts as a stylist and her formidable, en gaged intelligence. Copyright ® Reed Business Information, a divi sion of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved. From The New Yor ker Kate Frobisher is a recently widowed sculptor, who, temporari ly crippled by a car accident, is forced to employ help to comple te a fifteen-foot sculpture of Christ. Nearby lives a colleague o f her late husband, a foreign correspondent who is taking a break from Bosnia and Afghanistan to write a book about ways of repres enting war. In his downtime, he philosophizes with Kate about voy eurism and human suffering. There are flashes in Barker's tenth n ovel of the electrifying prose that readers have come to expect f rom her. But its central preoccupation, with social and moral vis ion, is shamelessly heavy-handed, and the novel is further encumb ered by a jumble of lacklustre minor characters and grand themes. Copyright ® 2005 The New Yorker From Booklist One doesn't oft en find the caliber of writing displayed in Barker's latest, a co mpulsively readable novel whose lofty themes include the costs of being emotionally vulnerable and the role of art in dangerous ti mes. Seemingly effortlessly, Barker creates a charged atmosphere of heightened emotions and physical danger as she immerses reader s in the world of grieving widow Kate Frosbisher. Her husband, Be n, a photojournalist, has been killed in Afghanistan, and she kno ws with implacable certainty that she will never recover from thi s loss; she can only try to learn to live with it. Her husband's partner, Stephen Sharkey, is also mourning Ben's death but has be en doubly devastated upon learning of his wife's adultery. When S tephen settles into a cottage in the British countryside near Kat e, they learn that the comforts of a rural retreat can be illusor y after an accident, a robbery, and a beating shatter their attem pts to heal. Barker herself denies readers the comfort of a tidy plot resolution, intentionally underscoring the chaos that lurks just beneath the civilized veneer of modern life. Joanne Wilkinso n Copyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved From Booklist One doesn't often find the caliber of writing displ ayed in Barker's latest, a compulsively readable novel whose loft y themes include the costs of being emotionally vulnerable and th e role of art in dangerous times. Seemingly effortlessly, Barker creates a charged atmosphere of heightened emotions and physical danger as she immerses readers in the world of grieving widow Kat e Frosbisher. Her husband, Ben, a photojournalist, has been kille d in Afghanistan, and she knows with implacable certainty that sh e will never recover from this loss; she can only try to learn to live with it. Her husband's partner, Stephen Sharkey, is also mo urning Ben's death but has been doubly devastated upon learning o f his wife's adultery. When Stephen settles into a cottage in the British countryside near Kate, they learn that the comforts of a rural retreat can be illusory after an accident, a robbery, and a beating shatter their attempts to heal. Barker herself denies r eaders the comfort of a tidy plot resolution, intentionally under scoring the chaos that lurks just beneath the civilized veneer of modern life. Joanne Wilkinson Copyright © American Library Assoc iation. All rights reserved About the Author Pat Barker is the a uthor of nine novels, most recently Border Crossing. For her high ly acclaimed Regeneration Trilogy, she was awarded the Guardian f iction prize and the Booker Prize. She lives in England. Excerp t. ® Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved. Excerpt from D ouble Vision by Pat Barker. Copyright © 2003 by Pat Barker. To be published in December, 2003 by Farrar, Straus & Giroux, LLC. All rights reserved. 1 CHRISTMAS WAS OVER. Feeling a shame-faced p leasure in the restoration of normality, Kate stripped the tree o f lights and decorations, cut off the main branches and dragged t he trunk down to the compost heap at the bottom of the garden. Th ere she stood looking back at the house, empty again now-her moth er and sister had left the morning after Boxing Day-seeing the li ghted windows and reflected firelight almost as if she were a str anger, shut out. A few specks of cold rain found her eyelids and mouth. All around her the forest waited, humped in silence. Shive ring, she ran back up the lawn. Gradually she re-established he r routine. Up early, across to the studio by eight, five hours' u nbroken work that generally left her knackered for the rest of th e day, though she forced herself to walk for an hour or two in th e afternoons. The weather turned colder, until one day, returni ng from her walk, she noticed that the big puddle immediately out side her front gate was filmed with ice, like a cataract dulling the pupil of an eye. She heated a bowl of soup, built up the fire and huddled over it, while outside the temperature dropped, stea dily, hour by hour, until a solitary brown oak leaf detaching its elf from the tree fell onto the frost-hard ground with a crackle that echoed through the whole forest. People had glutted themse lves on food and sociability over Christmas and New Year and want ed their own firesides, so the first few evenings of January were spent alone. But then Lorna and Michael Bradley asked her to the ir anniversary party and, though she was enjoying the almost mona stic rhythm of her present life, she accepted. Since Ben's death that had been her only rule: to refuse no invitation, to acknowle dge and return any small act of kindness-and it was working, she was getting through, she was surviving. Once there, she enjoyed the evening, in spite of having restricted herself to just two g lasses of wine, and by eleven was driving back along the forest r oad, her headlights revealing the pale trunks of beech trees, mus cled like athletes stripped off for a race. She was leaving a str etch of deciduous forest and entering Forestry Commission land, a cres of closely planted trees, rank upon rank of them, a green ar my marching down the hill. Her headlights scarcely pierced the da rkness between the pines, though here and there she glimpsed a ta ngle of dead wood and debris on the forest floor. She kept the wi ndows closed, a fug of warmth and music sealing her off from the outside world. The lighted car travelled along the road between t he thickly crowding trees like a blood corpuscle passing along a vein. Somewhere in the heart of the wood an antlered head turned to watch her pass. Almost no traffic-she overtook a white van nea r the crossroads, but after that saw no other cars. The road dipp ed and rose, and then, no more than 400 yards from her home, wher e a stream overflowing in the recent heavy rains had run across t he road forming a stick of black ice, the car left the road. Th ere was no time to think. Trees loomed up, leapt towards her, bra nches shattered the windscreen, clawed at her eyes and throat. A crash and tearing of metal, then silence, except for the tinny be at of the music that kept on playing. One headlight shone at a st range angle, probing the thick resin-smelling branches that had c aught and netted the car. She lay, drifting in and out of consc iousness, aware that she mustn't try to move her head and neck. S he knew she was injured, perhaps seriously, though she felt littl e pain as long as she kept still. Saliva dribbled from the corner of her mouth, blood settled in one eye. After what seemed a lo ng time she heard the noise of an engine. Her own wrecked car fil led with shifting parallelograms of light and shade as the other car's headlights swept across it. The engine was switched off, fo otsteps rang clear on the road, slurred across the grass verge, a nd then a figure appeared at the window. A headless figure was al l she could see, since he didn't bend to look in. She tried to sp eak, but only a croak came out. He didn't move, didn't open the d oor, didn't check to see how she was, didn't ring or go for help. Just stood there, breathing. She tried to lift her head, but a spasm of pain shot down her spine and she knew she mustn't move. Slowly she slipped into unconsciousness, fighting all the way, t hen battled her way back to the surface, where now there were oth er voices, frightened voices-frightened of her, of what she'd bec ome. 'Ambulance,' she heard. 'Police.' Then the familiar soun d of somebody thumbing numbers into a mobile phone, and at last s he was able to let go and accept the dark. * * * In something too high, too tight, for a bed. White sheets pinned her legs dow n. Walls the colour of putty. Mum's voice, then Alice's, but she knew they couldn't be here, they'd left the day after Boxing Day, and so she refused to acknowledge them, these phantom relatives, and concentrated instead on getting some spit going in her mouth . Her tongue felt swollen, and was so dry it stuck to the roof of her mouth. 'Look,' said Alice. 'She wants a drink.' Her moth er's head came between her and the tight. 'Dead to the world. Can 't hear a word you're saying.' 'Oh, I don't know. They always s ay, don't they, Keep talking? You never know how much gets throug h.' Was she dying? Couldn't persuade herself it mattered much. Water ... Alice's scent, sharp and sweet. A spout pushed betw een her lips, jarred her teeth. Water, too much water, gagged, ch oked, spout pulled away, reinserted, gentler now, and she glugged , once, twice. Dribbles ran down the side of her neck, were dabbe d away on a cold flannel. She stared at the cracks in the ceiling , only to find them replaced, almost immediately, by her mother's and her sister's heads. 'Do you think she can hear us?' Mum SA id. She has been somewhere else. She remembers the trees, the d ark road, the branches pushing through broken glass, the man by t he window, breathing. But then it all begins to fade. She tried to turn her head and couldn't. Some kind of brace round her neck stopped her moving. Her right arm was swaddled against her side by the tight sheet. She could feel her arms, and her legs, and he r toes. She wiggled them to make sure, remembering how her father , right at the end of his long illness, after the stroke, had hat ed the arm he couldn't feel and kept pushing it away from him. At least she wasn't like that. It all still belonged to her, this b arren plain she looked down on from the height of her raised head , this fenland under its covering of snow. She started to drift off again, heard her mother say, 'We're only tiring her. I think we'd better go and let her sleep.' * * * Somebody had sent r oses. She opened her eyes and there they were, tight, formal, dar k red buds, like drops of blood in the white room, but her eyelid s were too heavy to go on looking, and when she opened them again the roses were gone. 0* * * As soon as she could support her self, they got her out of bed and made her sit in the armchair be side it. Her feet were cold. She was depressed, worried about the work she wasn't doing. She'd taken on a big commission, a huge C hrist for the cathedral, it should have been well on the way by n ow, and yet here she was, stuck in an armchair like an old woman, unable to move, helpless. The physiotherapist came to see her, and then she started regular sessions in the physiotherapy room, where she stared in the floor-to-ceiling mirrors at the necldess creature she'd become. 'Very good,' the uniformed girls kept say ing. 'Very good.' She hadn't been spoken to in such jolly, patron izing tones since she was in nappies. She smiled, desperation sim mering under the surface. Back on the ward, she set off down th e corridor clinging to the rail, forcing herself to keep walking, though each step sent twinges of pain up her spine. Now and then she met another patient, similarly handicapped, head on, and the n they'd pause, assess the extent of each other's disability, and decide, silently, which of them was better able to let go of the rail and stand unsupported while the other shuffled past. So muc h courage. So much decency. She was humbled by it. But then it was back to the ward. Her room overlooked a courtyard where even evergreen plants, deprived of light, sickened and died. 'I've g ot to get out of here,' she said, when Alec Braithewaite, the loc al vicar and also a friend, came to see her. He took a step bac kwards, raising his hands, pretending to be knocked over by her u rgency. 'Good morning, Kate.' She sighed, accepting the reproof . 'Good morning, Alec.' 'How are you? ' 'Going mad.' He cam e and sat beside the bed. 'Nobody likes hospitals. The main thing is to get better.' 'The main thing is the Christ.' He smiled . 'I'm pleased to hear you say so.' 'You know what I mean, Alec . My Christ.' 'Can you lift your arm?' She tried, as she trie d a hundred times a day. 'No.' 'When does it have to be finishe d?' 'May. In time for Founders' and Benefactors' Day.' 'That' s not too bad.' 'Alec, it's a massive figure. It's barely enoug h time if I were all right.' 'Can't you negotiate another date? ' 'I've never missed a deadline in my life.' She sat brooding , her chin sunk into the padded collar. She looked broken, Alec t hought, as he'd never seen her before, not even in the first week s after Ben's death. 'Then you're going to need help.' 'I don't want an assistant.' 'Other sculptors use them, don't they?' 'Yes.' He leaned forward. 'So what don't you like about them?' 'Where to start? For one thing, they're always art stude... .
2
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Double Vision (2003)
EN HC USISBN: 9780374209056 bzw. 0374209057, in Englisch, Farrar Straus & Giroux, gebundenes Buch, gebraucht.
Lieferung aus: Vereinigte Staaten von Amerika, Versandkosten nach: AUT.
Von Händler/Antiquariat, Good Books In The Woods.
New York, New York: Farrar Straus & Giroux. Near Fine in Near Fine dust jacket. 2003. First Edition. Hardcover. 0374209057 . First US Edition. "In the aftermath of September 11, reeling from the effects of reporting from New York City, two British journalists - a writer, Stephen Sharkey, and a photographer, Ben Frobisher - part ways. Stephen, facing the almost simultaneous discovery that his wife is having an affair, returns to England shattered; he divorces and quits his job. Ben returns to his vocation, following the war on terror to Afghanistan, where he is killed." Ships same or next business day. Book has very faint wearing on ends of spine; otherwise, in almost like new condition. Dust jacket has minimal edge wear, light crease on head of spine. ; 8vo 8" - 9" tall; 259 pages .
Von Händler/Antiquariat, Good Books In The Woods.
New York, New York: Farrar Straus & Giroux. Near Fine in Near Fine dust jacket. 2003. First Edition. Hardcover. 0374209057 . First US Edition. "In the aftermath of September 11, reeling from the effects of reporting from New York City, two British journalists - a writer, Stephen Sharkey, and a photographer, Ben Frobisher - part ways. Stephen, facing the almost simultaneous discovery that his wife is having an affair, returns to England shattered; he divorces and quits his job. Ben returns to his vocation, following the war on terror to Afghanistan, where he is killed." Ships same or next business day. Book has very faint wearing on ends of spine; otherwise, in almost like new condition. Dust jacket has minimal edge wear, light crease on head of spine. ; 8vo 8" - 9" tall; 259 pages .
3
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Double Vision A Novel (2004)
~EN PB NWISBN: 9780312424107 bzw. 0312424108, vermutlich in Englisch, Picador, Taschenbuch, neu.
Lieferung aus: Vereinigte Staaten von Amerika, Versandkosten nach: DEU.
Von Händler/Antiquariat, BobPrudhomme, Relentless Bookfinder.
New York U. S. A.: Picador. New 2004. Softcover. Marfree Fine Picador as shown -IS NEW; no names, not marked-in, underscored, clearance or discard. Mails from NYC usually within 12 hours.; 0.8 x 8 x 5.5 Inches; 258 pages; SynopsisIn the aftermath of covering 9/11, English war reporter Stephen Sharkey and photographer Ben Frobisher leave New York and part company. Stephen returns to the devastating discovery of the end of his marriage; while on assignment in Afghanistan Ben is killed. Retreating to the English countryside to write a book questioning the role of the war reporter and photographer Stephen enters into complicated relationships with Ben’s widow Kate, a sculptor, her disturbing and sinister young studio assistant, and a young au-pair. Set far from the literal theatre of war, Double Vision is nonetheless a novel about its representation and effects as Pat Barker once more lays bare the complexities of desire and violence.The New York Times[Barker's] latest novel, Double Vision, is a complex, deeply engaging ensemble piece that describes a single winter in the lives of a handful of interconnected characters … Where the melodies of the novel mesh, they display a writer at the height of her powers. The few times they clash are almost more beautiful: in them, you can hear the even more impressive, because rarer, sound of an artist growing. — Neil Gordon .
Von Händler/Antiquariat, BobPrudhomme, Relentless Bookfinder.
New York U. S. A.: Picador. New 2004. Softcover. Marfree Fine Picador as shown -IS NEW; no names, not marked-in, underscored, clearance or discard. Mails from NYC usually within 12 hours.; 0.8 x 8 x 5.5 Inches; 258 pages; SynopsisIn the aftermath of covering 9/11, English war reporter Stephen Sharkey and photographer Ben Frobisher leave New York and part company. Stephen returns to the devastating discovery of the end of his marriage; while on assignment in Afghanistan Ben is killed. Retreating to the English countryside to write a book questioning the role of the war reporter and photographer Stephen enters into complicated relationships with Ben’s widow Kate, a sculptor, her disturbing and sinister young studio assistant, and a young au-pair. Set far from the literal theatre of war, Double Vision is nonetheless a novel about its representation and effects as Pat Barker once more lays bare the complexities of desire and violence.The New York Times[Barker's] latest novel, Double Vision, is a complex, deeply engaging ensemble piece that describes a single winter in the lives of a handful of interconnected characters … Where the melodies of the novel mesh, they display a writer at the height of her powers. The few times they clash are almost more beautiful: in them, you can hear the even more impressive, because rarer, sound of an artist growing. — Neil Gordon .
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Double Vision: A Novel , Hörbuch, Digital, ungekürzt, 498min
EN NW AB DLISBN: 9781405627580 bzw. 1405627581, in Englisch, Audible Studios, neu, Hörbuch, elektronischer Download.
Lieferung aus: Deutschland, مسموع النقل البحري، مجاناً للتحميل.
Stephen Sharkey is suffering the after effects of his career as a war reporter.... Insomnia, exhaustion, recurring nightmares. Stephen Sharkey is suffering the after effects of his career as a war reporter, most recently in Afghanistan, where Ben Frobisher, war photographer and friend, has been shot dead on assignment. Hanging up his flak jacket and turning his back on the everyday reality of war, Stephen moves into a quiet and peaceful cottage in the north of England. It seems the perfect environment in which to write his book on the representations of war, one that will be based largely on Ben Frobisher´s work. But Stephen´s supposed isolation offers no protection from other people´s suffering or the shattering effects of human brutality. ungekürzt. Language: English. Narrator: Robert Glenister. Audio sample: http://samples.audible.de/bk/bbcw/000941de/bk_rhde_002536_sample.mp3. Digital audiobook in aax. Abo-Testpreis 0.00 EUR.
Stephen Sharkey is suffering the after effects of his career as a war reporter.... Insomnia, exhaustion, recurring nightmares. Stephen Sharkey is suffering the after effects of his career as a war reporter, most recently in Afghanistan, where Ben Frobisher, war photographer and friend, has been shot dead on assignment. Hanging up his flak jacket and turning his back on the everyday reality of war, Stephen moves into a quiet and peaceful cottage in the north of England. It seems the perfect environment in which to write his book on the representations of war, one that will be based largely on Ben Frobisher´s work. But Stephen´s supposed isolation offers no protection from other people´s suffering or the shattering effects of human brutality. ungekürzt. Language: English. Narrator: Robert Glenister. Audio sample: http://samples.audible.de/bk/bbcw/000941de/bk_rhde_002536_sample.mp3. Digital audiobook in aax. Abo-Testpreis 0.00 EUR.
5
Double Vision - A Novel
EN NWISBN: 9781429923200 bzw. 1429923202, in Englisch, Straus And Giroux Farrar, neu.
Double Vision: Double Vision from Pat Barker, a gripping novel about the effects of violence on the journalists and artists who have dedicated themselves to representing itIn the aftermath of September 11, reeling from the effects of reporting from New York City, two British journalists, a writer, Stephen Sharkey, and a photographer, Ben Frobisher, part ways. Stephen, facing the almost simultaneous discovery that his wife is having an affair, returns to England shattered he divorces and quits his job. Ben returns to his vocation. He follows the war on terror to Afghanistan and is killed. Stephen retreats to a cottage in the country to write a book about violence, and what he sees as the reporting journalist`s or photographer`s complicity in it it is a book that will build in large part on Ben`s writing and photography. Ben`s widow, Kate, a sculptor, lives nearby, and as she and Stephen learn about each other their world speedily shrinks, in pleasing but also disturbing ways Stephen`s maid, with whom he has begun an affair, was once lovers with Kate`s new studio assistant, an odd local man named Peter. As these connections become clear, Peter`s strange behavior around Stephen and Kate begins to take on threatening implications. The sinister events that take place in this small town, so far from the theaters of war Stephen has retreated from, will force him to act instinctively, violently, and to face his most painful revelations about himself. Englisch, Ebook.
6
Double Vision (2001)
EN NWISBN: 9780312424107 bzw. 0312424108, in Englisch, Picador USA, neu.
Lieferung aus: Vereinigtes Königreich Großbritannien und Nordirland, 3-5 Days.
Double Vision from Pat Barker, a gripping novel about the effects of violence on the journalists and artists who have dedicated themselves to representing itIn the aftermath of September 11, 2001, reeling from the effects of reporting from New York City, two British journalists, a writer, Stephen Sharkey, and a photographer, Ben Frobisher, part ways. Stephen, facing the almost simultaneous discovery that his wife is having an affair, returns to England shattered; he divorces and quits his job. Ben returns to his vocation. He follows the war on terror to Afghanistan and is killed. Stephen retreats to a cottage in the country to write a book about violence, and what he sees as the reporting journalist's or photographer's complicity in it; it is a book that will build in large part on Ben's writing and photography. Ben's widow, Kate, a sculptor, lives nearby, and as she and Stephen learn about each other their world speedily shrinks, in pleasing but also disturbing ways; Stephen's maid, with whom he has begun an affair, was once lovers with Kate's new studio assistant, an odd local man named Peter. As these connections become clear, Peter's strange behavior around Stephen and Kate begins to take on threatening implications. The sinister events that take place in this small town, so far from the theaters of war Stephen has retreated from, will force him to act instinctively, violently, and to face his most painful revelations about himself.
Double Vision from Pat Barker, a gripping novel about the effects of violence on the journalists and artists who have dedicated themselves to representing itIn the aftermath of September 11, 2001, reeling from the effects of reporting from New York City, two British journalists, a writer, Stephen Sharkey, and a photographer, Ben Frobisher, part ways. Stephen, facing the almost simultaneous discovery that his wife is having an affair, returns to England shattered; he divorces and quits his job. Ben returns to his vocation. He follows the war on terror to Afghanistan and is killed. Stephen retreats to a cottage in the country to write a book about violence, and what he sees as the reporting journalist's or photographer's complicity in it; it is a book that will build in large part on Ben's writing and photography. Ben's widow, Kate, a sculptor, lives nearby, and as she and Stephen learn about each other their world speedily shrinks, in pleasing but also disturbing ways; Stephen's maid, with whom he has begun an affair, was once lovers with Kate's new studio assistant, an odd local man named Peter. As these connections become clear, Peter's strange behavior around Stephen and Kate begins to take on threatening implications. The sinister events that take place in this small town, so far from the theaters of war Stephen has retreated from, will force him to act instinctively, violently, and to face his most painful revelations about himself.
7
Double Vision
EN USISBN: 0374209057 bzw. 9780374209056, in Englisch, Farrar, Straus and Giroux, gebraucht.
Lieferung aus: Vereinigte Staaten von Amerika, Lagernd, zzgl. Versandkosten.
contemporary,literary,literature and fiction,mystery thriller and suspense,psychological thrillers,thrillers, Double Vision: A Novel, A gripping novel about the effects of violence on the journalists and artists who have dedicated themselves to representing itIn the aftermath of September 11, reeling from the effects of reporting from New York City, two British journalists, a writer, Stephen Sharkey, and a photographer, Ben Frobisher, part ways. Stephen, facing the almost simultaneous discovery that his wife is having an affair, returns to England shattered; he divorces and quits his job. Ben returns to his vocation. He follows the war on terror to Afghanistan and is killed. Stephen retreats to a cottage in the country to write a book about violence, and what he sees as the reporting journalist's or photographer's complicity in it; it is a book that will build in large part on Ben's writing and photography. Ben's widow, Kate, a sculptor, lives nearby, and as she and Stephen learn about each other their world speedily shrinks, in pleasing but also disturbing ways; Stephen's maid, with whom he has begun an affair, was once lovers with Kate's new studio assistant, an odd local man named Peter. As these connections become clear, Peter's strange behavior around Stephen and Kate begins to take on threatening implications. The sinister events that take place in this small town, so far from the theaters of war Stephen has retreated from, will force him to act instinctively, violently, and to face his most painful revelations about himself.
contemporary,literary,literature and fiction,mystery thriller and suspense,psychological thrillers,thrillers, Double Vision: A Novel, A gripping novel about the effects of violence on the journalists and artists who have dedicated themselves to representing itIn the aftermath of September 11, reeling from the effects of reporting from New York City, two British journalists, a writer, Stephen Sharkey, and a photographer, Ben Frobisher, part ways. Stephen, facing the almost simultaneous discovery that his wife is having an affair, returns to England shattered; he divorces and quits his job. Ben returns to his vocation. He follows the war on terror to Afghanistan and is killed. Stephen retreats to a cottage in the country to write a book about violence, and what he sees as the reporting journalist's or photographer's complicity in it; it is a book that will build in large part on Ben's writing and photography. Ben's widow, Kate, a sculptor, lives nearby, and as she and Stephen learn about each other their world speedily shrinks, in pleasing but also disturbing ways; Stephen's maid, with whom he has begun an affair, was once lovers with Kate's new studio assistant, an odd local man named Peter. As these connections become clear, Peter's strange behavior around Stephen and Kate begins to take on threatening implications. The sinister events that take place in this small town, so far from the theaters of war Stephen has retreated from, will force him to act instinctively, violently, and to face his most painful revelations about himself.
8
Double Vision
EN PB USISBN: 9780312424107 bzw. 0312424108, in Englisch, MacMillan Higher Education, Taschenbuch, gebraucht.
Lieferung aus: Vereinigte Staaten von Amerika, In Stock.
9780312424107,0312424108,double,vision,barker, A hand inspected Used copy of "Double Vision" by Pat Barker. Ships directly from Textbooks.com, Paperback, Shipping to USA only!
9780312424107,0312424108,double,vision,barker, A hand inspected Used copy of "Double Vision" by Pat Barker. Ships directly from Textbooks.com, Paperback, Shipping to USA only!
9
Double Vision
EN PB USISBN: 9780312424107 bzw. 0312424108, in Englisch, MacMillan Higher Education, Taschenbuch, gebraucht.
Lieferung aus: Vereinigte Staaten von Amerika, In Stock.
9780312424107,0312424108,double,vision,barker, Excellent Marketplace listings for "Double Vision" by Pat Barker starting as low as $1.99! Paperback, Shipping to USA only!
9780312424107,0312424108,double,vision,barker, Excellent Marketplace listings for "Double Vision" by Pat Barker starting as low as $1.99! Paperback, Shipping to USA only!
10
Double Vision
EN USISBN: 0312424108 bzw. 9780312424107, in Englisch, Picador, gebraucht.
Lieferung aus: Vereinigte Staaten von Amerika, In Stock.
contemporary,fiction,literary,literature and fiction,mystery thriller and suspense,psychological thrillers,thrillers, Double Vision: A Novel, In the aftermath of covering 9/11, English war reporter Stephen Sharkey and photographer Ben Frobisher leave New York and part company. Stephen returns to the devastating discovery of the end of his marriage; while on assignment in Afghanistan Ben is killed. Retreating to the English countryside to write a book questioning the role of the war reporter and photographer Stephen enters into complicated relationships with Ben's widow Kate, a sculptor, her disturbing and sinister young studio assistant, and a young au-pair. Set far from the literal theatre of war, Double Vision is nonetheless a novel about its representation and effects as Pat Barker once more lays bare the complexities of desire and violence.
contemporary,fiction,literary,literature and fiction,mystery thriller and suspense,psychological thrillers,thrillers, Double Vision: A Novel, In the aftermath of covering 9/11, English war reporter Stephen Sharkey and photographer Ben Frobisher leave New York and part company. Stephen returns to the devastating discovery of the end of his marriage; while on assignment in Afghanistan Ben is killed. Retreating to the English countryside to write a book questioning the role of the war reporter and photographer Stephen enters into complicated relationships with Ben's widow Kate, a sculptor, her disturbing and sinister young studio assistant, and a young au-pair. Set far from the literal theatre of war, Double Vision is nonetheless a novel about its representation and effects as Pat Barker once more lays bare the complexities of desire and violence.
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