Weaveworld 6 csillagozás

Clive Barker: Weaveworld Clive Barker: Weaveworld Clive Barker: Weaveworld Clive Barker: Weaveworld Clive Barker: Weaveworld Clive Barker: Weaveworld

Weaveworld is the stuff of which classics are made. It begins with a carpet – a wondrous, magnificent carpet – into which a world has been woven. But as the carpet begins to unravel, Clive Barker takes us to places where we have seldom been in fiction – places terrifying and miraculous.

Eredeti megjelenés éve: 1987

Crossroad Press, Hertford, 2014
722 oldal · ISBN: 0286133059 · ASIN: B00KD4ZDJQ
Gallery Books, New York, 2001
672 oldal · ISBN: 9780743417358
HarperCollins, London, 1999
752 oldal · ISBN: 9780006483007

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Várólistára tette 2

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Kiemelt értékelések

Juci P>!
Clive Barker: Weaveworld

Az anyja szemit, de jó volt ez a könyv! A rettenetestől a csodálatosig minden megvan benne. Megmozgatott a történet: izgultam, nevettem, undorodtam, elfacsarodott a szívem, dühöngtem, szóval az érzelmek elég széles skáláján végigtornáztatott engem Mr Barker. Közel 25 éves a regény, de nem avult el, ennél sokkal fantáziadúsabbat nemigen írtak azóta sem. Olvassátok el, van hozzá jövő évi kihívás. :)
Naiv kérdéseim: a magyar változatnak (http://moly.hu/konyvek/clive-barker-korbacs) miért a Korbács címet adták, ami messze nem a könyv lényege, és miért olyan rusnyák a borítók?

10 hozzászólás

Népszerű idézetek

Arianrhod P>!

Tales of Paradise Lost are central to our culture, of course; we are all exiles from some place of bliss.

1 hozzászólás
Arianrhod P>!

I recently finished a six-week publicity tour for a new novel, and at book-signings across the country found readers bringing me battered but much-beloved copies of Weaveworld to be inscribed; several times I heard people say the book had helped them through dark times in their personal lives.
There is nothing more gratifying to this author than to sign and personalize a book which has seen some action: passed between friends, dropped in the bath, coffee-stained and sun-yellowed. I have in my library copies of certain works – Melville, Poe, Blake – that I’ve treasured over the years, all much the worse for wear. I know how close you can get to a book whose stains and creases are part of your shared history.

Arianrhod P>!

He had lunacy in his blood. His father’s father, Mad Mooney, ended his life crazy as a coot. The man had been a poet, according to Brendan, though tales of his life and times had been forbidden in Chariot Street. Hush your nonsense, Eileen had always said, whenever Brendan mentioned the man, though whether this taboo was against Poetry, Delirium or the Irish Cal had never decided.

Arianrhod P>!

And now here he was, carrying on that family tradition: seeing visions and crying into his whisky.

2 hozzászólás
Arianrhod P>!

… Surely dying was like this, he thought; losing things dear and unable to prevent their passing.

Arianrhod P>!

Yes, fantastic fiction can be intricately woven into the texture of our daily lives, addressing important issues in fabulist form. But it also serves to release us for a time from the definitions that confine our daily selves; to unplug us from a world that wounds and disappoints us, allowing us to venture into places of magic and transformation. Though of late my writing has concerned itself more and more with detailing that wounded, disappointing reality, as a reader I have rediscovered the pleasures of unrepentant escapism: the short fiction of Lord Dunsany, early Yeats poems, the paintings of Samuel Palmer and Ernst Fuchs.

Arianrhod P>!

The call done, she rang the hospital. There was no change in the patient’s condition. She’s hanging on, was the duty nurse’s phrase. It conjured an odd image of Mimi as mountaineer, clinging to a cliff-face.

Arianrhod P>!

It’s just that a thing that grows too certain of itself becomes a kind of lie.

Juci P>!

The name brought an exclamation of horror from both Frederick and Jerichau. Apolline, ever the lady, simply spat on the floor.
'Have they not hanged that bitch yet?' she said.
'Twice to my certain knowledge,' Jerichau replied.
'She takes it as flattery,' Lilia remarked.

Fontana/Collins 1988, 135. o.

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