Gør som tusindvis af andre bogelskere
Tilmeld dig nyhedsbrevet og få gode tilbud og inspiration til din næste læsning.
Ved tilmelding accepterer du vores persondatapolitik.Du kan altid afmelde dig igen.
Charming account extends from the early 1600s through the late 19th century. Intriguing details, dozens of illustrations and maps, and the author's wry humor combine for a vivid portrait of a long-vanished New York.
Compiled from newspaper archives and richly illustrated with historic images, this fascinating chronicle traces the city's growth from Wall Street to Harlem during the period between 1783 and the early 20th century.
A moving memoir, Dreaming of Columbus illuminates place as a force that shapes lives. Through recollection and reportage, Michael Pearson recreates the Bronx of the 1950s and 60s, the place of his youth, that "precisely known world, safe and claustrophobic, " an Irish Catholic culture filled with light and shadows.Pearson renders time and place vividly through his lyrical narrative voice and generous spirit toward his characters. In a work that is both comic and sad, he juxtaposes descriptions of adolescent escapades with the grim discipline of parochial schools. It is in this Bronx that dreams of escape fuse with bittersweet memories.The driving force behind Pearson's story is its people -- an enigmatic father, a steadfast mother, an eccentric and influential writing teacher, the boys and girls who shared his neighborhood, the high school girl who shared his vision and his life -- and the books that made escape and return seem possible.Few writers go home again as successfully as Michael Pearson. When he literally and imaginatively revisits the all-but-unrecognizable Bronx of his youth, longing for its intense life, he concedes it was "close to paradise." We understand perfectly.
This book is about my early beginnings in New York City. It talks about the people I met, the challenges I faced, and the difficulty I had establishing myself in this place. I thought I was going to take the city by storm, but it seems to have swept me away instead. Though I try to understand my mind at the time, I can only come as close as my recollection of it. The real story is told by the letters and journals I wrote at that time. Alas, this serves as simply a snapshot description of that experience.
Tilmeld dig nyhedsbrevet og få gode tilbud og inspiration til din næste læsning.
Ved tilmelding accepterer du vores persondatapolitik.