Ellis, Bret Easton:Imperial Bedrooms
- gebunden oder broschiert 2010, ISBN: 9780307735058
Simon & Schuster. Very Good. Hardcover. 2001. 592 pages. <br>An epic novel of Manhattan's first century follows two families--one Dutch, the other British--from the earlies… Mehr…
Simon & Schuster. Very Good. Hardcover. 2001. 592 pages. <br>An epic novel of Manhattan's first century follows two families--one Dutch, the other British--from the earliest da ys of the settlement to the Revolutionary War. A first novel. 75, 000 first printing. Editorial Reviews From Publishers Weekly Th e tapestry of early American society is hung out for a fresh view ing in this ambitious historical novel of 1660s New Amsterdam. Th e English Turners are brother and sister, surgeon/barber and apot hecary. Devoted to one another, Sally and Lucas quickly learn to make their way in the harsh, prosperous new world, aiding the Dut ch governor Stuyvesant's family and making their reputation in th e bargain. Then Lucas sells Sally in marriage to Jacob Van der Vr ies, a cruel, foolish physician, in order to save her life, Lucas says, but she believes it is to buy his lover's freedom to marry , and she never forgives him. This rift begins a feud between the Van der Vries (later Devreys) and Turners that lasts through the American Revolution. Colorful characters vie with historical fig ures for attention on this broad stage: there's Jennet, Sally's g reat-granddaughter, who marries a wealthy Jew; Caleb Devrey, Jenn et's first cousin, who loved her as a boy, but becomes her bitter est enemy; Morgan, Jennet's son, a privateer and patriot; and Mor gan's best friend and former slave, Cuffy, whose fate is bound to Morgan's by love, hate and the same woman the gorgeous Roisin Ca mpbell aka Mistress Healsall. The healing profession is carried d own through each generation of Turners and Devreys, and Swerling' s descriptions of early operations with crude instruments are det ailed and riveting. The city of New York is a character in its ow n right, but even it cannot compete with the richly drawn, well-r ounded people Swerling creates. This engrossing, generously imagi ned tale deserves the large audience it should find at a time whe n the founding fathers reign triumphant in biography. (Oct.) Fore cast: The size of this hefty debut may actually be a selling poin t, since it promises an epic tale. The colorful period jacket art should appeal to browsers, too. Copyright 2001 Cahners Busines s Information, Inc. From Booklist The early history of Manhatta n is chronicled through six generations of a remarkable clan of s urgeons, physicians, and apothecaries. Hounded out of England for illegally practicing surgery, gifted Lucas Turner and his sister , Sally, immigrate to the New World. Landing in New Amsterdam in 1661, Lucas employs a combination of daring and skill to establis h his reputation as a surgeon, and Sally begins planting and gath ering the herbs, plants, and flowers she needs to concoct the med icinal potions and drugs necessary for his practice. Though their future seems bright, the arrival of an unscrupulous and inept Du tch physician threatens both their security and their relationshi p. When Jacob Van der Vies succeeds in his vile blackmail effort, he causes an irreparable rift between the two siblings. For more than 100 years, the Turner and the Van der Vies branches of the family participate in both the evolution of the art and science o f medicine and the transition of Manhattan from a fledgling colon ial outpost to a bustling, thriving metropolis on the brink of re volution. Margaret Flanagan Copyright © American Library Associat ion. All rights reserved From Booklist The early history of Manh attan is chronicled through six generations of a remarkable clan of surgeons, physicians, and apothecaries. Hounded out of England for illegally practicing surgery, gifted Lucas Turner and his si ster, Sally, immigrate to the New World. Landing in New Amsterdam in 1661, Lucas employs a combination of daring and skill to esta blish his reputation as a surgeon, and Sally begins planting and gathering the herbs, plants, and flowers she needs to concoct the medicinal potions and drugs necessary for his practice. Though t heir future seems bright, the arrival of an unscrupulous and inep t Dutch physician threatens both their security and their relatio nship. When Jacob Van der Vies succeeds in his vile blackmail eff ort, he causes an irreparable rift between the two siblings. For more than 100 years, the Turner and the Van der Vies branches of the family participate in both the evolution of the art and scien ce of medicine and the transition of Manhattan from a fledgling c olonial outpost to a bustling, thriving metropolis on the brink o f revolution. Margaret Flanagan Copyright © American Library Asso ciation. All rights reserved About the Author Beverly Swerling i s a writer, consultant, and amateur historian. She lives in New Y ork City with her husband. Excerpt. ® Reprinted by permission. A ll rights reserved. Chapter One Eleven weeks in a ship thirty-s even feet long by eleven wide, carrying a crew of nine as well as twenty passengers. Lurching and lunging and tossing on the Atlan tic swells, the sails creaking night and day, spread above them l ike some evil bird of prey. Hovering, waiting for death. The du ng buckets on the open deck were screened only by a scanty calico curtain that blew aside more often than it stayed in place. For Sally Turner the dung buckets were the worst. She was twenty-th ree years old -- small, with dark hair, bright brown eyes, and a narrow, pinched face -- from a Rotterdam slum by way of a rodent- infested corner of a Kentish barn. The crossing had turned her in sides to water. She went seven or eight times a day to the dung b uckets. The flimsy cloth almost always blew aside and she saw the grizzled, hungry-eyed crewmen watching, waiting for her to lift her skirts. As if all the battles between Kent and now had been f or nothing. Her brother suffered more from the seasickness. Luc as Turner was a big man, like his sister only in his dark colorin g, and in the intelligence that showed behind his eyes. Until now most would have called him handsome; the journey had reduced him to a shell. From the start Lucas hung day and night over the sid e of the wooden ship, vomiting his guts into the sea. The voyag e was beyond imagination, beyond bearing. Except that there was n o choice but to bear it. One small consolation: the April day whe n the Princess left Rotterdam was exceptionally warm. A premature summer rushed toward them as they sailed west. Most of the food spoiled before the end of the first three weeks. Constant illness prevented hunger. A crossing longer and more miserable and mor e dangerous than anything they had talked about or prepared for, and when they got there -- what? By all reports bitter cold in wi nter and fierce heat in summer. And savages, Sally Turner said th e first morning of June, when they were nine weeks into the voyag e, and she and her brother were hanging on to the rail in the shi p's bow. The swells were stronger in that position, but Lucas was convinced he could be no worse. And there was a bit of privacy. There are red men in America, Lucas. With painted faces and feath ers and hatchets. In God's name, what have we done? Lucas didn' t answer. They had decided the risk was worth the taking while th ey were still in Holland. Besides, he had to lean over the rail a nd puke yet again. There was nothing in his stomach to come up, e ven the bile was gone, but the dry heaves would not leave him. For as long as Sally could remember, it was Lucas who made such s ecurity as there was in her world. She felt every shudder of his agony-racked frame as if it were her own. She slid down, using th e wooden ship's planked bulkhead to keep her steady, and pawed th rough her basket. Eventually she drew herself up and pulled the t iny cork of a small pewter vial. Chamomile powder, Lucas. Let me shake some onto your tongue. No, that's all you've left. I won' t take it. I've more. With our things down below. You're lyin g, Sal. I can always -- He had to stop to heave again. His sis ter leaned toward him with the remedy that promised relief. Lucas eyed the small tube with longing. You're sure you've more? In our box in the hold. I swear it. Lucas opened his mouth. Sally emptied the last few grains of the chamomile powder onto his tong ue. It gave him some fifteen minutes of freedom from nausea. Be low decks, in the sturdy box that held all their belongings caref ully wrapped in oilskin, she did indeed have more chamomile, but only in the form of seed. Waiting, like Lucas and Sally Turner, t o be planted in Nieuw Amsterdam and thrive in the virgin earth of the island of Manhattan. * There was a wooden wharf of sorts , but two ships were already moored alongside it. The Princess dr opped anchor some fifty yards away, and a raft carried them to sh ore. It wasn't big enough to take everyone in one trip. Lucas and Sally were dispatched on the third. They clung together to kee p from being pitched overboard, and listened in disbelief to one of the crewmen talk about the calm of the deep, still harbor. Not too many places on this coast you can raft folks to land like th is. But here the bay's flat as a lake when the tide's with you. M eanwhile it seemed to Lucas and Sally that they were sliding and rolling with each wave, unable to lift their heads and see what t hey'd come to after their eleven weeks in hell. At last, land b eneath their feet and they could barely stand on it. They'd exper ienced the same misery three years before, after the far shorter crossing between England and the Netherlands. Give it a little ti me, Sal, her brother said. We'll be fine. Sally looked at what she could see of the place. A piece of crumbling earthworks that was a corner of Fort Amsterdam. A windmill that wasn't turning be cause there was no breath of air. A gibbet from which was suspend ed a corpse, covered in pitch and buzzing with flies. And the sun beating down on them. Relentless. Lucas, she whispered. Dear God , Lucas. Her brother put a hand on her arm. You there, a voice shouted. Mijnheer Turner. When you get your legs under you, come over here. There's some shade over by that tree, Lucas murmured . Wait there. I'll deal with this. A couple of rough planks had been spread across two trestles made from saplings. The man seat ed behind this makeshift table was checking off names on a list. Lucas staggered toward him. The clerk didn't look up. Turner? A ye. Lucas Turner. And Sally Turner. English? His accent alway s gave him away. Yes, but we're come under the auspices of... P atroon Van Renselaar. I know. You're assigned to plot number twen ty-nine. It's due north of here. Follow the Brede Wegh behind the fort to Wall Street. Take you some ten minutes to walk the lengt h of the town, then you leave by the second gate in the wall. The path begins straightaway on the other side. You'll know your pla ce when you get to it. There are three pine trees one right behin d the other, all marked with whiting. Lucas bent forward, tryin g to see the papers in front of the Dutchman. Is that a map of ou r land? It's a map of all the Van Renselaar land. Your piece is included. Lucas stretched out his hand. The clerk snatched the papers away. At last, mildly surprised, he looked up. Can you re ad, Englishman? Yes. And I'd like to see your map. Only for a m oment. The man looked doubtful. Why? What will it tell you? L ucas was conscious of his clothes hanging loose from his wasted f rame, and his face almost covered by weeks of unkempt beard. For one thing, a look at your map might give me some idea of the dist ance we must go before we reach those three pine trees. No need for that. I'll tell you. Half a day's walk once you're recovered from the journey. The clerk glanced toward Sally. Could take a b it longer for a woman. Some of the hills are fairly steep. This time when Lucas leaned forward the map wasn't snatched away. He saw one firm line that appeared to divide the town from the count ryside, doubtless the wall the clerk had spoken of, and just beyo nd it what appeared to be a small settlement of sorts. Our land - - Lucas pointed to the settlement beyond the wall -- is it in tha t part there? No, that's the Voorstadt, the out-city, a warehou se and the farms that serve the town. The clerk seemed amused by the newcomer's curiosity. He placed a stubby finger on an irregul ar circle a fair distance beyond the Voorstadt. And that's the Co llect Pond as gives us fresh water to brew beer with. Anything el se you'd care to know, Englishman? Shall I arrange a tour? I wa s promised land in the town, Lucas said. But I'll take a place in this Voorstadt. I'm a barber. I can't earn my keep if -- Your land's where I said it was. You're a farmer now. That's what's n eeded here. Wait. The voice, a woman's, was imperious. I wish t o speak with this man. A slight figure stepped away from the knot of people standing a little distance from the clerk. Despite the heat she was entirely covered by a hooded cloak of the tightly w oven gray stuff the Dutch called duffel. She freed a slender arm long enough to point to Lucas. Send him to me. Ja, mevrouw, of course. The clerk jerked his head in the woman's direction. Do as she says, he muttered quietly in the Englishman's direction. Wha tever she says. Lucas took a step toward the woman. He removed his black, broad-brimmed hat and held it in front of him, bobbed his head, and waited. Her hair was dark, shot with gray and dra wn back in a strict bun. Her features were sharp, and when she sp oke her lips barely moved, as if afraid they might forget themsel ves and smile. I heard you tell the clerk you could read. And tha t you're a barber. Both are true, mevrouw. Were you then the surgeon on that excuse for a ship? She nodded toward the Princess riding at anchor in the harbor. God help all who cross in her. No, mevrouw, I was not. A point in your favor. We are cursed w ith so-called ship's surgeons in this colony. Ignorant butchers, all of them. You're English, but you speak Dutch. And that misera ble craft sailed from Rotterdam, not London. So are you a member of the English Barbers' Company? I am, mevrouw. But I've lived two years in Rotterdam, and I was told I'd be allowed to practice here exactly as... I have no reason to think otherwise. And if you know your trade -- She broke off, chewing on her thin lower lip, studying him. Lucas waited. A number of silent seconds went by; then the woman pointed toward Sally. I take it that's your w ife. No, mevrouw, I am unmarried. That is my siste, Simon & Schuster, 2001, 3, UNITED STATES: Random House, 2010 Audio Book. Good. AUDIO CD. 4 AUDIO CDs withdrawn from the library collection. Some library sticker and marking. We will take the time to polish each Audio CD for a smooth quality of sound. Enjoy this reliable AUDIO CD performance.., Random House, 2010, 2.5<
