Special Topics in Calamity PhysicsPenguin, 2006. 8. 3. - 528페이지 The mesmerizing New York Times bestseller by the author of Night Film Marisha Pessl’s dazzling debut sparked raves from critics and heralded the arrival of a vibrant new voice in American fiction. At the center of Special Topics in Calamity Physics is clever, deadpan Blue van Meer, who has a head full of literary, philosophical, scientific, and cinematic knowledge. But she could use some friends. Upon entering the elite St. Gallway School, she finds some—a clique of eccentrics known as the Bluebloods. One drowning and one hanging later, Blue finds herself puzzling out a byzantine murder mystery. Nabokov meets Donna Tartt (then invites the rest of the Western Canon to the party) in this novel—with visual aids drawn by the author—that has won over readers of all ages. |
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... front of the knee and lower thigh of Ahmosis IV, chatting absentmindedly with her date, Nelson L. Aimes of the San Francisco Aimeses. “The kid had the charisma of a throw rug,” Dad liked to recall, though sometimes in his accounts the ...
... front of the knee and lower thigh of Ahmosis IV, chatting absentmindedly with her date, Nelson L. Aimes of the San Francisco Aimeses. “The kid had the charisma of a throw rug,” Dad liked to recall, though sometimes in his accounts the ...
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... front of the front door. He tried to hide it from me. “Our last utilities bill,” he said, because he'd rather die than show me the “hormonal ravings of a madwoman,” which he himself had inspired. Six hours later, however, somewhere in ...
... front of the front door. He tried to hide it from me. “Our last utilities bill,” he said, because he'd rather die than show me the “hormonal ravings of a madwoman,” which he himself had inspired. Six hours later, however, somewhere in ...
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... front of the worn velvet reading chair, the slanted bookshelf, the framed photograph of my mother with her bourgeois belongings. “Sweet?” Her eyes were alive. She stared at his back, her gaze mournful, as if she were an old woman in a ...
... front of the worn velvet reading chair, the slanted bookshelf, the framed photograph of my mother with her bourgeois belongings. “Sweet?” Her eyes were alive. She stared at his back, her gaze mournful, as if she were an old woman in a ...
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... front porch, where I was trying to curtail knotted liana.). His left arm inflated to the size of a football. That evening, Dad answered an advertisement of an experienced gardener in The Howard Sentinel. “Yardwork,” it read. “Anyhow ...
... front porch, where I was trying to curtail knotted liana.). His left arm inflated to the size of a football. That evening, Dad answered an advertisement of an experienced gardener in The Howard Sentinel. “Yardwork,” it read. “Anyhow ...
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... front porch or knowing it was he. My first inclination was to lock my bedroom door and hide under the comforter, but he was ringing the doorbell over and over again—he must have noticed the bedroom lights. I tiptoed down the stairs ...
... front porch or knowing it was he. My first inclination was to lock my bedroom door and hide under the comforter, but he was ringing the doorbell over and over again—he must have noticed the bedroom lights. I tiptoed down the stairs ...
목차
MOBYDICK Herman Melville Chapter 12 A MOVEABLE FEAST Ernest Hemingway Chapter 13 WOMEN IN LOVE D H Lawrence Chapter 14 TH... | |
PART 3 | |
HOWL AND OTHER POEMS Allen Ginsberg Chapter 20 THE TAMING OF THE SHREW William Shakespeare Chapter 21 DELIVERANCE James... | |
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actually appeared arms asked began believe Blue called Charles close coming course Dad’s dark dead detail didn’t don’t door eyes face feel felt finally floor front girl hair hand Hannah Hannah Schneider happened he’d head heard holding It’s Jade killed kind knew legs Leulah light living looked mean Milton mind minutes Miss mouth moved never Nigel night nodded noticed once Park person picked question remember returned seen she’d shoulder shouted side simply sitting smile Smoke someone sound standing stared stopped story sure talking tell things thought told took trees trying turned voice waiting walked wanted wasn’t watch wearing who’d window woman wonder