Charles Palliser Bücher

John Huffam auf der Suche nach der Wahrheit über seine Herkunft. Eine Abenteuergeschichte und gleichzeitig eine Schilderung der Lebensverhältnisse im London um 1820.

1881 wird in einer englischen Kleinstadt in der Kathedrale die Leiche eines lebendig eingemauerten Mannes gefunden. Eine Lawine verstörender Entdeckungen kommt ins Rollen: gefälschte Manuskripte, alte Blutfehden, Manipulationen - und dann auch noch ein Mord

From the author of the international bestsellerThe Quincunx When his nation is invaded and occupied by a brutal enemy, a man persuades his wife that they should give temporary shelter to a young girl who is at school with their daughter. He has no idea that the girl belongs to a community against whom the invader intends to commit genocide. Days stretch into weeks and then months while the enemy's pitiless hatred of the girl's community puts all of the family in danger. Nobody outside the family can be trusted with the dangerous secret and the threat from outside creates internal conflicts that put the family's unity at risk.

At once a hypnotic murder mystery, scathing literary parody, soap opera, and brilliant pastiche, this novel is a virtuoso performance by a modern master of literary gamesmanship in the tradition of Nabokov and Barth. It unfolds through seemingly unrelated narratives, each in a different style and genre. An obituary for a Scottish scientist reveals a colleague's relish for his death. Early in the century, a train in the Scottish Highlands derails during a snowstorm, leading to the death—or murder—of a passenger. An inept publisher's reader summarizes a tacky hospital romance that culminates in a gory murder reminiscent of Jack the Ripper. A report on a contemporary academic scandal spirals into plagiarism, shattered reputations, paranoia, and possible murder disguised as suicide. As the author teases out each situation, it becomes clear they all revolve around a common theme: a distinguished figure in an intellectual pursuit becomes obsessed with a rival's success and schemes their demise, only to fail due to their own monomania. Each plotter becomes a victim of their own machinations, and the betrayer often becomes the betrayed in a complex dance of deception, revenge, and revelation. This challenging, engrossing, and original work is a joy to read, filled with laughter, suspense, and the marvel of a cleverly constructed fictional puzzle.

Rond 1800 raakt een Londense jongen bij de jacht op het testament van zijn grootvader verzeild in een net van intriges.

The protagonist, a young man naive enough to be blind to all clues about his own hidden history (and to the fact that his very existence is troubling to all manner of evildoers) narrates a story of uncommon beauty which not only brings readers face-to-face with dozens of piquantly drawn characters at all levels of 19th-century English society but re-creates with precision the tempestuous weather and gnarly landscape that has been a motif of the English novel since Wuthering Heights. The suspension of disbelief happens easily, as the reader is led through twisted family trees and plot lines. The quincunx of the title is a heraldic figure of five parts that appears at crucial points within the text (the number five recurs throughout the novel, which itself is divided into five parts, one for each of the family galaxies whose orbits the narrator is pulled into). Quintuple the length of the ordinary novel, this extraordinary tour de force also has five times the ordinary allotment of adventure, action and aplomb.

Où l’on retrouve l’art intranquille de Charles Palliser, l’auteur du Quinconce (Phébus, 1993) – ce roman labyrinthe en cinq volumes qui explora, comme jamais peut-être, les voies du crime, et qui fut un succès mondial. Dans une petite ville d’Angleterre à la Belle Époque, quelques messieurs des mieux respectables, sous le regard d’un enquêteur féru d’histoire ancienne, se retrouvent avec un cadavre sur les bras... et doivent avouer au monde les ordinaires turpitudes de la vie. Un récit féroce, relevé d’un humour plutôt sombre, où Palliser confirme la pente traîtresse de son talent ; et nous rappelle à sa façon, comme Hitchcock hier, comme Wilkie Collins avant-hier, que l’existence est d’abord un mystère – un espace piégé où tout conspire à égarer le chercheur de vérité (un meurtre peut toujours en cacher un autre). Chacun d’entre nous se résume à une énigme, nous chuchote l’auteur, orfèvre en la matière : une énigme qui n’aura chance de s’éclairer à nos yeux qu’autant que nous acceptons de surmonter notre peur du noir.