Barcelona Dreaming
A Novel
(Sprache: Englisch)
The Irish Times: Best Book of the Year
New York Times Book Review: Editor's Choice
The Times (UK): Book of the Week Pick
Foreword Reviews: Book of the Day Pick
Conde Nast Traveler: Best Book of the Season...
New York Times Book Review: Editor's Choice
The Times (UK): Book of the Week Pick
Foreword Reviews: Book of the Day Pick
Conde Nast Traveler: Best Book of the Season...
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The Irish Times: Best Book of the Year New York Times Book Review: Editor's Choice
The Times (UK): Book of the Week Pick
Foreword Reviews: Book of the Day Pick
Conde Nast Traveler: Best Book of the Season Pick
Set on the eve of the financial crash of 2008, this evocative novel is made up of three stories linked by time and place, and also by the moving, unexpected interactions of a rich cast of characters.
Barcelona Dreaming is narrated, in turn, by an English woman who runs a gift shop, an alcoholic jazz pianist, and a translator tormented by unrequited love, all of whose lives will be changed forever. Underpinning the novel, and casting a long shadow, is a crime committed against a young Moroccan immigrant.
Exploring themes of addiction, racism, celebrity, immigration, and self-delusion, and fueled by a longing for the unattainable and a nostalgia for what is about to be lost, Barcelona Dreaming is a love letter to one of the world s most beautiful cities and a powerful and poignant fable for our uncertain times.
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THE GIANT OF SARRIÀWhen I was twenty-one, I fell in love with Pol. I moved to Barcelona to be close to him, and we married soon after. Within a year of our wedding I was pregnant, but things had already started to go wrong between us, and by the time our daughter was six months old we had split up and were living apart. Though I was from the North of England, I stayed on in Barcelona. I couldn t bear to leave. The quality of the light first thing in the morning, so bright and clear that the buildings seemed to have black edges. The green parrots that flashed from one palm tree to another. Long walks in the Collserola in April, to gather wild asparagus, or in September, to hunt for mushrooms. The beach every weekend in the summer, the mountains in the winter and restaurants and bars that stayed open all night. It was a city whose pleasures were simple and constant and it was a good place to raise a child.
For the first few years, I taught at an international school in Pedralbes, but I d always dreamed of running a business of my own. It wasn t until my daughter, Mar, was in her early teens that I had the money I came into a small inheritance and not long afterwards I found a commercial property that I thought might work: two rooms and a backyard in Sarrià, an ancient, well-heeled area in the upper reaches of the city. I called the shop Trinket. The cheekiness of the word appealed to me. Though English, it had a Catalan ring to it. That abruptness at the end. The sudden, final consonant. When I first saw the name printed in gold script on the crimson banner that would hang outside, it perfectly described the kind of place I d had in mind an Aladdin s cave of unexpected and exotic treasures.
Mar decided to go to university in England. She wanted to explore her English roots, she said. By then I d been running Trinket for five years. I wasn t making much of a profit, but I got by, and during her second year at Bristol I moved to a new apartment
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only a few minutes walk from the shop. Both the main bedroom and the living room had sliding glass doors that gave onto an east-facing terrace, where there was enough room for a Marquesa plant, a small lemon tree, and several pots of red geraniums. Directly beneath me was an underground car park, with frosted-glass slats high on the back wall that were left open all year-round. If I was sitting in my living room with no TV or music on, I would hear car engines starting, or people talking on their phones. Once, a man cleared his throat, and I thought for a moment that there was someone else in the apartment. At first, this was all a bit unnerving. In time, though, I adjusted. Like the shudder of the fridge or the distant grinding of the lift, the noises even began to reassure me.
I had been living there for about eighteen months when I was woken in the night by the sound of someone crying. It seemed to be coming from below. I eased out of bed and stepped onto the terrace. It was a stifling, humid night in late July, and I could smell the jasmine that sprawled over the side wall of the building that stood opposite. Beneath it, as always in the summer, was the stale, slightly medieval smell of drains. The crying was quieter now, and yet persistent, as if the misery ran deep. It sounded more like a man, I thought, than a woman. Back inside, I pulled on a denim skirt and a T-shirt, then I picked up my keys and left the apartment.
When I reached the entrance to the car park, I felt a shiver of apprehension, but I shook it off and started down the concrete slope. At the bottom was a kind of cabin or kiosk. The man on duty most nights was a melancholy Venezuelan called Hector. He almost always brought his Alsatian, Rocky, to work with him. For companionship, he told me, rather than security. After all, Sarrià wasn t exactly dangerous. I peered thr
I had been living there for about eighteen months when I was woken in the night by the sound of someone crying. It seemed to be coming from below. I eased out of bed and stepped onto the terrace. It was a stifling, humid night in late July, and I could smell the jasmine that sprawled over the side wall of the building that stood opposite. Beneath it, as always in the summer, was the stale, slightly medieval smell of drains. The crying was quieter now, and yet persistent, as if the misery ran deep. It sounded more like a man, I thought, than a woman. Back inside, I pulled on a denim skirt and a T-shirt, then I picked up my keys and left the apartment.
When I reached the entrance to the car park, I felt a shiver of apprehension, but I shook it off and started down the concrete slope. At the bottom was a kind of cabin or kiosk. The man on duty most nights was a melancholy Venezuelan called Hector. He almost always brought his Alsatian, Rocky, to work with him. For companionship, he told me, rather than security. After all, Sarrià wasn t exactly dangerous. I peered thr
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Autoren-Porträt von Rupert Thomson
Rupert Thomson is the author of twelve highly acclaimed novels, including Katherine Carlyle; Secrecy; The Insult, which was short-listed for the Guardian Fiction Prize and selected by David Bowie as one of his 100 Must-Read Books of All Time; The Book of Revelation, which was made into a feature film by Ana Kokkinos; and Death of a Murderer, which was short-listed for the Costa Novel of the Year Award. His memoir, This Party s Got to Stop, was named Writers Guild Non-Fiction Book of the Year. He lives in London.
Bibliographische Angaben
- Autor: Rupert Thomson
- 2021, 224 Seiten, Maße: 13,3 x 20,2 cm, Kartoniert (TB), Englisch
- Verlag: Other Press
- ISBN-10: 1635420423
- ISBN-13: 9781635420425
- Erscheinungsdatum: 09.08.2021
Sprache:
Englisch
Pressezitat
The Irish Times: Best Book of the Year New York Times Book Review: Editor's Choice
The Times (UK): Book of the Week Pick
Foreword Reviews: Book of the Day Pick
Conde Nast Traveler: Best Book of the Season Pick
These numinous stories, where reality is just the launchpad for flights of extravagant, erotically charged fancy, recall much of Bolaño s early work Barcelona Dreaming is a wonderful book, a phantasmal hymn to a city and a lost way of life. New York Times Book Review
The sense of place is brilliantly evoked and the stories build, cleverly linked together, into a beguiling love letter to the great city. Condé Nast Traveller
[A] shimmering triptych With seamless prose, Thomson affords an intimate glimpse into the three protagonists hearts and minds Descriptive flourishes, meanwhile, produce a consistent stream of wonderfully odd details Thomson gracefully ties together themes of longing, love, and the inequities caused by age and race. The result is memorable and moving. Publishers Weekly (starred review)
[Thomson] writes with a cleareyed compassion and never forces moments; everything in the novel feels organic. [He] inhabits the voices of his characters perfectly [a] trip to Barcelona well worth taking powerful. Kirkus Reviews (starred review)
Linked by incisive narrators and chance encounters, Rupert Thomson s alluring novel Barcelona Dreaming braids three stories into a lush exploration of love and unmet longings. Foreword Reviews
I don t know how Rupert Thomson does it. Each novel he writes is a new vision of a new world; he s the least predictable, the most surprising of writers. Barcelona Dreaming is set in that city, and it seems as if Thomson knows every corner of it, and every kind of human being who might live there. My astonishment is only surpassed by my admiration. Philip Pullman, author of the bestselling His Dark Materials trilogy
The three stories in Barcelona Dreaming are
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connected by ingeniously created threads, but also by a tone that is ironic, observant, alert to the complexity of the characters motives and desires. The book is set in the modern city of Barcelona, its atmosphere invoked with intimate knowledge and a matchless sense of place. Colm Tóibín, New York Times bestselling author of Brooklyn and The Master
Elegant and electrifying. Thomson s prose is sparse, yet so highly charged that I couldn t stop reading. I love all his novels but this one is my new favorite. Andrea Wulf, author of The Invention of Nature
Praise for Never Anyone But You:
There s so much sheer moxie, prismatic identity, pleasure and danger in these lives...the scenes are tense, particular and embodied...wonderfully peculiar. New York Times Book Review
Sleek, lush...an extraordinary and rollicking tale. Harper s
Taut and absorbing...As with all of Thomson s elegant and troubling novels, Never Anyone But You exerts a menacing but never histrionic power...this quietly passionate coupling of Eros and history lingers on to haunt the darkest recesses of the reader s mind. The Guardian
Elegant and electrifying. Thomson s prose is sparse, yet so highly charged that I couldn t stop reading. I love all his novels but this one is my new favorite. Andrea Wulf, author of The Invention of Nature
Praise for Never Anyone But You:
There s so much sheer moxie, prismatic identity, pleasure and danger in these lives...the scenes are tense, particular and embodied...wonderfully peculiar. New York Times Book Review
Sleek, lush...an extraordinary and rollicking tale. Harper s
Taut and absorbing...As with all of Thomson s elegant and troubling novels, Never Anyone But You exerts a menacing but never histrionic power...this quietly passionate coupling of Eros and history lingers on to haunt the darkest recesses of the reader s mind. The Guardian
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