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When her health begins failing, the mysterious author Vida Winter decides to let Margaret Lea, a biographer, write the truth about her life, but Margaret needs to verify the facts since Vida has a history of telling outlandish tales.
BookshelfMonstrosity: These novels offer gothic suspense's classic creepy atmosphere, though with somewhat different story-lines. Fingersmith takes place in Victorian England while The Thirteenth Tale is contemporary, but both emphasize books, mysteries about birth and identity, insanity, and grand houses.… (mais)
Este foi um livro que me marcou pela sua história, pelas suas personagens, e pelo facto da autora ter conseguido transmitir-nos o seu imenso amor pelos livros. Não tenho dúvidas que só alguém com um imenso amor pelos livros teria conseguido escrever esta história...
É uma história sobre famílias e os seus segredos, mas o que o torna tão especial é a forma como essa história é contada. É que os livros estão sempre presentes, pois mesmo quando não são explicitamente referidos, encontram-se sempre nos bastidores, sabemos que estão sempre lá, mesmo que não os vejamos.
É também a história de um mistério, o mistério sobre quem é Vida Winter realmente e quais os segredos do seu passado que justificaram a criação de uma nova identidade. Ah, e não posso esquecer o mistério do décimo terceiro conto, o conto mais famoso de Vida Winter apesar de nunca ter sido publicado e ninguém o ter alguma vez lido, e que, ao longo da história, várias personagens perguntam a Margaret se já sabe qual é. Achei esse pormenor delicioso!
As personagens são deliciosas, sobretudo Margaret. Como foi fácil identificar-me com ela, também eu sempre tive mais livros do que amigos... Mas também Vida Winter, Aurelius, Emmeline e Angeline, Missus e John-da-enxada, todos eles são personagens marcantes. ( )
A family saga with Gothic overtones, dark secrets, lost twins, a tragic fire, a missing manuscript and over-obvious nods to Jane Eyre, Rebecca and The Woman in White, it reads like something a creative writing class might write as a committee, for the sole purpose of coming up with a novel that would suit a book group (and tellingly, there are "Reading Group Study Notes" at the back suggesting topics for discussion).
The Thirteenth Tale is not without fault. The gentle giant Aurelius is a stock character, and the ending is perhaps a little too concerned with tying up all loose ends. But it is a remarkable first novel, a book about the joy of books, a riveting multi-layered mystery that twists and turns, and weaves a quite magical spell for most of its length.
"The Thirteenth Tale" keeps us reading for its nimble cadences and atmospheric locales, as well as for its puzzles, the pieces of which, for the most part, fall into place just as we discover where the holes are. And yet, for all its successes -- and perhaps because of them -- on the whole the book feels unadventurous, content to rehash literary formulas rather than reimagine them.
A book that you wake in the middle of the night craving to get back to...Timeless, charming, a pure pleasure to read...The Thirteenth Tale is a book to savor a dozen times.
Informação do Conhecimento Comum em inglês.Edite para a localizar na sua língua.
All children mythologize their birth. It is a universal trait. You want to know someone? Heart, mind and soul? Ask him to tell you about when he was born. What you get won't be the truth; it will be a story. And nothing is more telling than a story. -Vida Winter, Tales of Change and Desperation
Dedicatória
Informação do Conhecimento Comum em inglês.Edite para a localizar na sua língua.
In memory
Ivy Dora and Fred Harold Morris
Corina Ethel and Ambrose Charles Setterfield
Primeiras palavras
Informação do Conhecimento Comum em inglês.Edite para a localizar na sua língua.
It was November.
Citações
Informação do Conhecimento Comum em inglês.Edite para a localizar na sua língua.
Do you know the feeling when you start reading a new book before the membrane of the last one has had time to close behind you? You leave the previous book with ideas and themes-characters even-caught in the fibers of your clothes, and when you open the new book, they are still with you.
My gripe is not with lovers of the truth but with truth herself. What succor, what consolation is there in truth, compared to a story? What good is truth, at midnight, in the dark, when the wind is roaring like a bear in the chimney? What you need are the plump comforts of a story. The soothing, rocking safety of a lie. - Vida Winter
Tell me the truth.
Of course I loved books more than people. Of course I valued Jane Eye over the anonymous stranger with his hand on the lever. Of course all of Shakespeare was worth more than a human life. Of course. Unlike Miss Winter, I had been ashamed to say so.
… ten years of marriage is usually enough to cure marital affection …
So they became friends, the way old married couples often do, and enjoyed the tender loyalty that awaits the lucky on the other side of passion, without ever living the passion itself.
. . . she had that laugh, and the sound of it was so beautiful that when you heard it, it was as if your eyes saw her through your ears . . . . It was the sound of joy. He married her for it.
. . . But in her disease was a distillation: The more it reduced her, the more it exposed her essence. Every time I saw her she seemed diminished: thinner, frailer, more transparent, and the weaker she grew, the more the steel at her center was revealed.
. . . when I read about kindly grandmothers in my books, I supply them with her face.
“I know.” He didn’t know, of course. Not really. And yet that was what he said, and I was soothed to hear it. For I knew what he meant. We all have our sorrows, and although the exact delineaments, weight and dimensions of grief are different for everyone, the color of grief is common to us all. “I know,” he said, because he was human, and therefore, in a way, he did.
People disappear when they die. Their voice, their language, the warmth of their breath. Their flesh. Eventually their bones. All living memory of them ceases. This is both dreadful and natural. Yet for some there is an exception to this annihilation. For in the books they write they continue to exist. We can rediscover them. Their humor, their tone of voice, their moods. Through the written word they can anger you or make you happy. They can comfort you. They can perplex you. They can alter you. All this even though they are dead. Like flies in amber, like corpses frozen in ice, that which according to the laws of nature should pass away is, by the miracle of ink on paper, preserved. It is a kind of magic.
Últimas palavras
Informação do Conhecimento Comum em inglês.Edite para a localizar na sua língua.
He opened a cool green eye, regarded me for a moment, then closed it again.
When her health begins failing, the mysterious author Vida Winter decides to let Margaret Lea, a biographer, write the truth about her life, but Margaret needs to verify the facts since Vida has a history of telling outlandish tales.
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The Thirteenth Tale: Middles (SPOILERS)
7
É uma história sobre famílias e os seus segredos, mas o que o torna tão especial é a forma como essa história é contada. É que os livros estão sempre presentes, pois mesmo quando não são explicitamente referidos, encontram-se sempre nos bastidores, sabemos que estão sempre lá, mesmo que não os vejamos.
É também a história de um mistério, o mistério sobre quem é Vida Winter realmente e quais os segredos do seu passado que justificaram a criação de uma nova identidade. Ah, e não posso esquecer o mistério do décimo terceiro conto, o conto mais famoso de Vida Winter apesar de nunca ter sido publicado e ninguém o ter alguma vez lido, e que, ao longo da história, várias personagens perguntam a Margaret se já sabe qual é. Achei esse pormenor delicioso!
As personagens são deliciosas, sobretudo Margaret. Como foi fácil identificar-me com ela, também eu sempre tive mais livros do que amigos... Mas também Vida Winter, Aurelius, Emmeline e Angeline, Missus e John-da-enxada, todos eles são personagens marcantes. (