By Candas Jane Dorsey
Winner of the 1997 William J. Crawford Memorial Award (for a primary fable novel), this utopian, archetypal tale follows 5 generations of women--from the enormous, sadistic despot to her great-great-granddaughter operating in a warehouse--through their travels clear of and towards each other. Loves and deaths are gone through the generations, amassed on their successive trips, every one stressed personality surroundings others in movement as she seeks freedom and kinship. Candas Jane Dorsey's concise language is robust, telling an excessive tale with no emotional plateaus, in simple terms peaks and valleys, pleasure and grief. this is often an related to, unsettling booklet. it really is simply the most effective and so much formidable novels of 1996 and person who will impress notion and dialog.
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Extra resources for Black Wine
No, he hadn't jumped, he had merely slipped away as if it was the most natural thing in the world. How odd. Join me. Closing his eyes to rid him of vertigo, he fell off the edge and into nothingness. 2 Jakob He felt the wind coursing past him as he plummeted towards the water. He'd always wondered whether he would keep his eyes open for the duration or shut them tightly to avoid seeing his impending demise. The blackness surrounding him answered his query, it was an odd thing to think about given the lack of time left for him to think at all.
I can call you Jakob, can't I? We barely know each other and already you're cutting straight to business. Can we not first exchange a few... ' She left no doubt as to what pleasantries she had in mind, the plunging neckline of her shirt as she leaned toward him and her sweetened breath hot upon his face made that very apparent. Before he might have responded to such stimuli. The woman wasn't without her charms and the attempts at flirtation were flattering if misguided. Now every advance that had been made upon him brought nothing but a pang of regret and thoughts of his exwife.
Gathering speed he burst out of captivity, ducking and weaving between the outstretched arms of security. It felt like a hazy dream, empowered by the need to escape. His captors had no idea how fast he could run, the very wind itself seemed to fly with him. The corridors were a sterilised blur, his strides short and controlled as sprinted through each winding passage way. The name badge attached to him would soon attract the attention of security if his hectic pace didn't. He knew that there was no choice, he couldn't afford to slow with the lumbering men chasing after him.