The Way the Crow Flies: A NovelHarper Collins, 13/10/2009 - 848 páginas “One of the finest novels I’ve read . . . .a fiercely intelligent look at childhood, marriage, families, the 1960s, the Cold War and the fear and isolation that are part of the human condition…. it is not only beautifully written…. it is equally beautiful in its conception, its compassion, its wisdom, even in its anger and pain. Don’t miss it.” — Patrick Anderson, Washington Post Book World The optimism of the early sixties, infused with the excitement of the space race and the menace of the Cold War, is filtered through the rich imagination of high-spirited, eight-year-old Madeleine, who welcomes her family's posting to a quiet Air Force base near the Canadian border. Secure in the love of her beautiful mother, she is unaware that her father, Jack, is caught up in a web of secrets. When a local murder intersects with global forces, Jack must decide where his loyalties lie, and Madeleine will be forced to learn a lesson about the ambiguity of human morality -- one she will only begin to understand when she carries her quest for the truth, and the killer, into adulthood twenty years later. |
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... never happen here, sweetie, Canada is a free country.” “If it hadn't been for the war,” says Maman, “Papa and I would never have met”—Madeleine squirms—“and you and Michel would never have come along. . . .” Her mother has a way of ...
... ” “With axes,” says Mike. “Come on, kids, let's go,” says Jack, heading for the car. “Did they get the people who did it?” she asks, transfixed before the stone. No, they never did. “Are they still out there?” No, 20 the way the crow flies.
... never grows old. It remains in the present. Until the last flypast. Then it is demobilized, decommissioned, deconsecrated. It is sold off and all the aging, the buildup of time that was never apparent, will suddenly be upon it. It will ...
... never seems possible that the china cabinet and buffet will fit once the dining suite is in, but somehow they always do. A bay window in the living room overlooks the backyard and one of Centralia's big empty green fields ringed by the ...
... never properly gauge the danger. Treetops piercing the fog. Unscheduled thunderheads. “Not sure I like the looks of that.” They flew for the fun of it. Got lost on purpose, followed the “iron compass” home, catching up with and ...