By Sena Jeter Naslund
From the hole line—"Captain Ahab used to be neither my first husband nor my last"—you will be aware of that you're within the fingers of a grasp storyteller and within the corporation of a desirable girl hero. encouraged by means of a quick passage in Moby-Dick, Sena Jeter Naslund has created a charming and compellingly readable saga, spanning a wealthy, eventful, and dramatic existence. without delay a kin drama, a romantic event, and a portrait of a true and loving marriage, Ahab's Wife provides new standpoint at the American experience.
This P.S. version positive factors an additional sixteen pages of insights into the booklet, together with writer interviews, urged studying, and more.
Read Online or Download Ahab's Wife: Or, The Star-Gazer: A Novel PDF
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Extra resources for Ahab's Wife: Or, The Star-Gazer: A Novel
The red square in the center represents the hearth,’’ I said, my mother having explained it to me in Kentucky. ’’ Actually, the ﬁreplace was in one end of our cabin at home, and not in the center, but I had known that my mother was speaking symbolically. ‘‘The dark green tones are for the forest all around us,’’ Mother said. ’’ ‘‘I should very much like Una to keep up her own sewing,’’ my mother said. ‘‘I’ll make you a quilt,’’ I promised, and I went to stand beside her, 34 feeling again that it would be hard to let her go home.
Uncle Jonathan and Aunt Agatha and Frannie, with my mother joining in, began to sing a song about a lighthouse keeper, but I did not know the words. While they sang, Uncle put a hurricane glass over the candle, the glass settling nicely into a circular groove in the wood of the candlestick holder. I could well imagine that he would not want to climb all the way to the top only to have his candle extinguished accidentally. Then he went to a low door in the side of the room and opened it. The stone steps, quite steep, began at once and bent around the inner wall of the tower.
Now, from the house I read him, crossing the window left to right, how the harried buggy and his ﬂailing arm moved as a unit from the left pane of glass to the right pane of glass, and out of sight. How undisturbed the trees seemed in their dark uprightness, how intact in their neatly ﬁtting bark. My father had seemed so till his recent conversion. I ceased looking through the window in order to contemplate the wavy glass itself. What was a window but a machine for making the opaque transparent?