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In 1968, an eleven-year-old girl contemplates her social prospects. Her mother is prepared to do anything to make sure her children don’t grow up “ignorant,” like Judith’s attractive sister, Claire. This coming of age novel focuses on solitude, alienation, obesity, lies, sexuality, shame, madness, and fear of strangers; and our first encounters with the betrayals of friends, family and community.
Teenagers Miles and Chateaugué have run away. They soon form a suicide pact to preserve their fleeting innocence. Written in a style that echoes the work of Arthur Rimbaud and William Burroughs, Ducharme’s vision is darkly prophetic of a world that has lost its way, on which “our lady of good help” only gazes with an inscrutable Mona Lisa smile.
Then We Were One
Shocked by his brother’s death from injuries sustained in the Vietnam War, Fred Reed sets out on a journey of personal discovery. By way of Iran after the Revolution; in mystical Anatolian highlands; in pursuit of iconoclasts in Syria and Lebanon; he comes under the spell of Islam. In its embrace and discipline, he finds renewed brotherhood and liberation.
The holiday season is upon us, and perhaps you are considering giving the gift of a good book! Here are the most lovely and readable and immediately compelling books we have produced recently to help you in your quest. Order soon to have them delivered in the next couple of weeks! (And did you know that ours come nicely packaged?)Tuesday December 3, 2013 in Meta-Talon
by Chloë Filson
In a recent Meta-Talon article, “Reflections on Regionalism,” Megan Jones referred to the “quietly profound writers that dwell in far-off corners and dense urban hotbeds of this vast country.” This description points to one of the most important – or at least one of the most critically discussed – tensions in Canadian literature: urban vs. rural.Thursday November 28, 2013 in Meta-Talon
Tuesday November 26, 2013 in Meta-Talon
“With this magazine cover, I know it’s only a prototype, but with this cover, we decided to concentrate on the mole. This may look to you and me like an ordinary, and might I add rather famous, mole on a human face. Yet if we were to make that assumption, we would both be making a rather naive supposition.”
Candy blinked and stifled a yawn.
“Because,” roared F with wild eyes, nearly startling Candy out of her seat, “the mole is not a real mole at all!”
“Okay, Doc, I believe you. Just chill, okay.”
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