Little ​Eyes 3 csillagozás

Samanta Schweblin: Little Eyes Samanta Schweblin: Little Eyes Samanta Schweblin: Little Eyes

A ​visionary novel about our interconnected world, about the collision of horror and humanity, from the Man Booker-shortlisted master of the spine-tingling tale

'She has a gift for fiction that is pure, original, revelatory.' El País

They've infiltrated homes in Hong Kong, shops in Vancouver, the streets of Sierra Leone, town squares of Oaxaca, schools in Tel Aviv, bedrooms in Indiana.

They're not pets, nor ghosts, nor robots. They're real people, but how can a person living in Berlin walk freely through the living room of someone in Sydney? How can someone in Bangkok have breakfast with your children in Buenos Aires, without you knowing? Especially when these people are completely anonymous, unknown, untraceable.

The characters in Samanta Schweblin's wildly imaginative new novel, Little Eyes, reveal the beauty of connection between far-flung souls – but they also expose the ugly truth of our increasingly linked world. Trusting strangers can lead to… (tovább)

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Oneworld, London, 2021
256 oldal · puhatáblás · ISBN: 9781786078612 · Fordította: Megan McDowell
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Simon & Schuster, New York, 2020
256 oldal · ISBN: 9781786077936 · Fordította: Megan McDowell

Várólistára tette 3

Kívánságlistára tette 7


Népszerű idézetek

marianngabriella P>!

“My daughter has one of you at home. And they talk in Morse code. You should learn, so we can chat!”

Antigua

1 hozzászólás
marianngabriella P>!

She understood now: it was a trap. Connecting with that other user, finding out who this other person was, also meant saying a lot about oneself. In the long run, the kentuki would always end up knowing more about her than she knew about it, that was true; but she was its keeper, and she wouldn’t allow the crow to be anything more than a pet.

Oaxaca

marianngabriella P>!

It was a new and expensive object that smelled of technology, plastic, and cotton.

Oaxaca

marianngabriella P>!

Then it occurred to her that this crow could peck openly at her private life, would see her whole body, get to know the tone of her voice, her clothes, her schedules; it could move freely about the room and at night it would also see Sven. She, on the other hand, could only ask questions. The kentuki could decide not to answer, or it could lie.

Oaxaca

marianngabriella P>!

Maybe speaking English was the only good thing about having been born in a city as terribly boring as South Bend.

South Bend

marianngabriella P>!

She had been expecting some kind of latest-generation Japanese technology, one step closer to that household robot she’d been reading about in the magazines of the Sunday paper since she was a kid, but she concluded that there was nothing new: the kentuki was nothing more than a cross between a mobile stuffed animal and a cell phone. It had a camera, a small speaker, and a battery that would last between one and two days, depending on usage. It was an old concept with technology that also sounded old.

Oaxaca

marianngabriella P>!

With that, the connection card of the kentuki’s “being” was lost, and so was the kentuki itself. Neither of the two parts could be used again. “One connection per purchase” was the manufacturers’ policy—it came written on the side of the box, as if it constituted some kind of selling point.

Zagreb

marianngabriella P>!

For his father’s generation, illegal was a word that set off alarm bells; for Grigor, it was an overrated term that already sounded antiquated.

Zagreb


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