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This brilliant, boundary-leaping debut novel traces 12-year-old genius map-maker T.S. Spivet's attempts to understand the ways of the world, taking T.S. on a journey from his family ranch just north of Divide, Montana, to the Smithsonian's hallowed halls.
BookshelfMonstrosity: The precocious young narrators in each of these novels embark on journeys alone, providing illustrations to enhance their complex narratives, which include family history as well as current concerns. T. S. travels across the U.S, while Oskar travels throughout New York City.… (mais)
'O mundo explicado por T. S. Spivet' narra a viagem de um menino de doze anos que foge de casa e se esconde em um trem rumo ao outro lado do país onde mora. Ele registra suas aventuras, que vão desde lugares históricos até uma simples lanchonete, tudo narrado pelos olhos de uma criança. No meio do caminho, um segredo de família o desperta para a importância daqueles que ficaram para trás. ( )
Informação do Conhecimento Comum em inglês.Edite para a localizar na sua língua.
"It is not down in any map; true places never are." -Herman Melville, Moby-Dick
Dedicatória
Informação do Conhecimento Comum em inglês.Edite para a localizar na sua língua.
For Katie
Primeiras palavras
Informação do Conhecimento Comum em inglês.Edite para a localizar na sua língua.
The phone call came late one August afternoon as my older sister Gracie and I sat out on the back porch shucking the sweet corn into the big tin buckets.
Citações
Informação do Conhecimento Comum em inglês.Edite para a localizar na sua língua.
"Angela Ashford says [AIDS] are bad and that I probably have 'em."
Dr. Clair looked at Layton. The mancala pieces were still in her hand.
"If Angela Ashford ever says anything like that to you ever again, you tell her that just because she's insecure about being a little girl in a society that puts an inordinate amount of pressure on little girls to live up to certain physical, emotional, and ideological standards- many of which are improper, unhealthy, and self-perpetuating- it doesn't mean she has to take her misplaced self-loathing out on a nice boy like you. You may be inherently part of the problem, but that doesn't mean you aren't a nice boy with nice manners, and it certainly doesn't mean you have AIDS."
"I'm not sure I can remember all that," Layton said.
"Well then, tell Angela that her mother is a white-trash drunk from Butte." p. 37
I do love the sound of ripping corn husks. The violence of the noise, the sustained popping and shoring of the silky organic threads, made me think of someone tearing up an expensive and potentially Italian set of trousers in a fit of madness that this person might just regret later. p. 10
The moment that latch on my door ticked shut, I began agonizing. For the art of packing I changed into an athletic costume complete with sweatband and kneepads. This was going to be more difficult than the President's Fitness Challenge, in which I couldn't manage a single pull-up. I put a little Brahms on the record player to calm the nerves. p. 77
How lucky I was to have grown up on such a ranch, such a castle of imagination, where hounds gnawed on bones and the mountains signed with the weight of the heavens on their backs. p. 350
"... A map does not just chart, it unlocks and formulates meaning; it forms bridges between here and there, between disparate ideas that we did not know were previously connected. To do this right is very difficult." - Mr. Benefideo, p. 138
Everywhere in the Sett'ng Room there were fading and faded photographs of nameless men on nameless horses. Soapy Williams riding crazy old Firefly, his elastic frame impossibly twisted yet still somehow clinging to the back of the bucking beast. It was like looking at a good marriage.
My father saw conversing as a chore, like shoeing a horse: it was not done for enjoyment; it was done when it needed to be done.
Dr. Clair was the kind of mother who would teach you the periodic table while feeding you porridge as an infant but not the type, in this age of global terrorism and child kidnappers, to ask who might be calling her children on the telephone.
Últimas palavras
Informação do Conhecimento Comum em inglês.Edite para a localizar na sua língua.
Then my hands were on the door. I hesitated. My father clucked his tongue and gave me a nod. I pushed open the door and walked into the light.
This brilliant, boundary-leaping debut novel traces 12-year-old genius map-maker T.S. Spivet's attempts to understand the ways of the world, taking T.S. on a journey from his family ranch just north of Divide, Montana, to the Smithsonian's hallowed halls.
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