The Godfather
(Sprache: Englisch)
When Mario Puzo's blockbuster saga, The Godfather, was first published in 1969, critics hailed it as one of the greatest novels of our time, and "big, turbulent, highly entertaining." Since then, The Godfather has gone on to become a part of...
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When Mario Puzo's blockbuster saga, The Godfather, was first published in 1969, critics hailed it as one of the greatest novels of our time, and "big, turbulent, highly entertaining." Since then, The Godfather has gone on to become a part of America's national culture, as well as a trilogy of landmark motion pictures. Now, in this newly-repackaged 30th Anniversary Edition, readers old and new can experience this timeless tale of crime for themselves.From the lavish opening scene where Don Corleone entertains guests and conducts business at his daughter's wedding...to his son, Michael, who takes his father's place to fight for his family...to the bloody climax where all family business is finished, The Godfather is an epic story of family, loyalty, and how "men of honor" live in their own world, and die by their own laws.
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BOOK IBehind every great fortune there is a crime.
BALZAC
Chapter 1
Amerigo Bonasera sat in New York Criminal Court Number 3 and waited for justice; vengeance on the men who had so cruelly hurt his daughter, who had tried to dishonor her.
The judge, a formidably heavy-featured man, rolled up the sleeves of his black robe as if to physically chastise the two young men standing before the bench. His face was cold with majestic contempt. But there was something false in all this that Amerigo Bonasera sensed but did not yet understand.
You acted like the worst kind of degenerates, the judge said harshly. Yes, yes, thought Amerigo Bonasera. Animals. Animals. The two young men, glossy hair crew cut, scrubbed clean-cut faces composed into humble contrition, bowed their heads in submission.
The judge went on. You acted like wild beasts in a jungle and you are fortunate you did not sexually molest that poor girl or I d put you behind bars for twenty years. The judge paused, his eyes beneath impressively thick brows flickered slyly toward the sallow-faced Amerigo Bonasera, then lowered to a stack of probation reports before him. He frowned and shrugged as if convinced against his own natural desire. He spoke again.
But because of your youth, your clean records, because of your fine families, and because the law in its majesty does not seek vengeance, I hereby sentence you to three years confinement to the penitentiary. Sentence to be suspended.
Only forty years of professional mourning kept the overwhelming frustration and hatred from showing on Amerigo Bonasera s face. His beautiful young daughter was still in the hospital with her broken jaw wired together; and now these two animales went free? It had all been a farce. He watched the happy parents cluster around their darling sons. Oh, they were all happy now, they were smiling now.
... mehr
The black bile, sourly bitter, rose in Bonasera s throat, overflowed through tightly clenched teeth. He used his white linen pocket handkerchief and held it against his lips. He was standing so when the two young men strode freely up the aisle, confident and cool-eyed, smiling, not giving him so much as a glance. He let them pass without saying a word, pressing the fresh linen against his mouth.
The parents of the animales were coming by now, two men and two women his age but more American in their dress. They glanced at him, shamefaced, yet in their eyes was an odd, triumphant defiance.
Out of control, Bonasera leaned forward toward the aisle and shouted hoarsely, You will weep as I have wept I will make you weep as your children make me weep the linen at his eyes now. The defense attorneys bringing up the rear swept their clients forward in a tight little band, enveloping the two young men, who had started back down the aisle as if to protect their parents. A huge bailiff moved quickly to block the row in which Bonasera stood. But it was not necessary.
All his years in America, Amerigo Bonasera had trusted in law and order. And he had prospered thereby. Now, though his brain smoked with hatred, though wild visions of buying a gun and killing the two young men jangled the very bones of his skull, Bonasera turned to his still uncomprehending wife and explained to her, They have made fools of us. He paused and then made his decision, no longer fearing the cost. For justice we must go on our knees to Don Corleone.
IN A GARISHLY DECORATED Los Angeles hotel suite, Johnny Fontane was as jealously drunk as any ordinary husband. Sprawled on a red couch, he drank straight from the bottle of scotch in his hand, then washed the taste away by dunking his mouth in a crystal bucket of ice cubes and water. It was four in the morning and he was spinning drunke
The black bile, sourly bitter, rose in Bonasera s throat, overflowed through tightly clenched teeth. He used his white linen pocket handkerchief and held it against his lips. He was standing so when the two young men strode freely up the aisle, confident and cool-eyed, smiling, not giving him so much as a glance. He let them pass without saying a word, pressing the fresh linen against his mouth.
The parents of the animales were coming by now, two men and two women his age but more American in their dress. They glanced at him, shamefaced, yet in their eyes was an odd, triumphant defiance.
Out of control, Bonasera leaned forward toward the aisle and shouted hoarsely, You will weep as I have wept I will make you weep as your children make me weep the linen at his eyes now. The defense attorneys bringing up the rear swept their clients forward in a tight little band, enveloping the two young men, who had started back down the aisle as if to protect their parents. A huge bailiff moved quickly to block the row in which Bonasera stood. But it was not necessary.
All his years in America, Amerigo Bonasera had trusted in law and order. And he had prospered thereby. Now, though his brain smoked with hatred, though wild visions of buying a gun and killing the two young men jangled the very bones of his skull, Bonasera turned to his still uncomprehending wife and explained to her, They have made fools of us. He paused and then made his decision, no longer fearing the cost. For justice we must go on our knees to Don Corleone.
IN A GARISHLY DECORATED Los Angeles hotel suite, Johnny Fontane was as jealously drunk as any ordinary husband. Sprawled on a red couch, he drank straight from the bottle of scotch in his hand, then washed the taste away by dunking his mouth in a crystal bucket of ice cubes and water. It was four in the morning and he was spinning drunke
... weniger
Autoren-Porträt von Mario Puzo
Mario Puzo was born on Manhattan s West Side in the neighborhood known as Hell s Kitchen. His first books, The Fortunate Pilgrim ( a minor classic New York Times) and Dark Arena, brought him critical acclaim, but it was the publication of The Godfather in March 1969 that catapulted him into the front ranks of American authors. Reviewers hailed the book as a staggering triumph (Saturday Review), big, turbulent, highly entertaining (Newsweek), remarkable (Look), and a voyeur s dream, a skillful fantasy of violent personal power (New York Times). Winning readers by the millions, it stayed at or near the top of the New York Times bestseller lists for sixty-nine weeks. His follow-up novel, Fools Die (1978), was hailed as the publishing event of the decade. Puzo s last novel, Omerta, was finished shortly before his death in 1999.
Bibliographische Angaben
- Autor: Mario Puzo
- 1995, Internationale Ausgabe, 576 Seiten, Maße: 11 x 19 cm, Kartoniert (TB), Englisch
- Verlag: Signet, London
- ISBN-10: 0451167716
- ISBN-13: 9780451167712
- Erscheinungsdatum: 27.01.2011
Sprache:
Englisch
Pressezitat
"You can't stop reading it." - New York magazine"A staggering triumph." - The Saturday Review
"Utter believability." - Los Angeles Times
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