The Paragon Hotel
(Sprache: Englisch)
A gun moll with a knack for disappearing flees from Prohibition-era Harlem to Portland's Paragon Hotel.
The year is 1921, and "Nobody" Alice James has just arrived in Oregon with a bullet wound, a lifetime's experience battling the New York Mafia,...
The year is 1921, and "Nobody" Alice James has just arrived in Oregon with a bullet wound, a lifetime's experience battling the New York Mafia,...
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A gun moll with a knack for disappearing flees from Prohibition-era Harlem to Portland's Paragon Hotel.The year is 1921, and "Nobody" Alice James has just arrived in Oregon with a bullet wound, a lifetime's experience battling the New York Mafia, and fifty thousand dollars in illicit cash. She befriends Max, a black Pullman porter who reminds her achingly of home and who saves Alice by leading her to the Paragon Hotel. But her unlikely sanctuary turns out to be an all-black hotel in a Jim Crow city, and its lodgers seem unduly terrified of a white woman on the premises.
As she meets the churlish Dr. Pendleton, the stately Mavereen, and the club chanteuse Blossom Fontaine, she understands their dread. The Ku Klux Klan has arrived in Portland in fearful numbers--burning crosses, electing officials, infiltrating newspapers, and brutalizing blacks. And only Alice and her new Paragon "family" are searching for a missing mulatto child who has mysteriously vanished into the woods. To untangle the web of lies and misdeeds around her, Alice will have to answer for her own past, too.
A richly imagined novel starring two indomitable heroines, The Paragon Hotel at once plumbs the darkest parts of America's past and the most redemptive facets of humanity. From international-bestselling, multi-award-nominated writer Lyndsay Faye, it's a masterwork of historical suspense.
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F One FNOW
New York probably is infested with as savage a horde of cut-throats, rats, treacherous gunmen and racketeers as ever swarmed upon a rich and supine principality.
-Stanley Walker, The Night Club Era, 1933
U
Sitting against the pillows of a Pullman sleeper, bones clacking like the pistons of the metal beast speeding me westward, I wonder if I'm going to die.
The walls of my vibrating coffin are polished mahogany, windows spotless, reflecting onyx midnight presently. I've been watching them for several days. When I wasn't switching trains, which was its own jostling hell and doesn't bear repeating.
Does Salt Lake City ever bear repeating, really?
I don't even suppose I took the fastest route cross-country. So long as I was always moving. I remember fleeing New York, still adrift with the shock. Battling sucking currents of lost love and lost city dragging me under. Changing at Chicago I remember-the hustle, the weight of all that metal, the sheer rank sweat of making the connection. I recall prim forests, sloping hills. Downy wheat tufts, crops we tore through like an iron bomb, and desolate empty skies. Big burgs, shabby shacks, towns undeserving of the word, all blurring into America.
But at night it's been the black window, the white alcove curtain, smells of cigarettes and pot roast and cold cream, and the fever slick coating my brow confirming that I'm going to die.
I'm in shock, possibly. Despair, certainly.
Now it hits me in a crack of panic that I'd prefer death drop by when I'm ninety and not twenty-five, supposing it's all the same to the Harding administration.
Panting, I tug at my hair. The sudden flare momentarily douses the fire in other locales. I
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wonder when my bunkmate will return to torment me. I wouldn't have taken a sleeping car if I hadn't been forced-acquaintances are dangerous. They pore over your mug out of sheer boredom, make remarks like God, isn't our porter just dreadful, these sheets are barely tucked in. They don't give a knotted cherry stem what you think of the porter, they can't really see him anyhow. No, they hanker to watch you react to them. Then they can journal it, whether you're haughty or humble or hateful. Whether you're all right.
Whether you're not all right, which is ever so much more interesting.
Dangerous, what with death and dismemberment potentially in hot pursuit. I couldn't go full-scale deluxe, though. A private car would have been checked first by someone searching this train, any cadet axman would chart the same course. Private cars, sleeping cars, then public seating. Maybe I ought to lend a hand to the brakeman, trade a few dirty jokes in exchange for a hiding place.
If only I could dangle from the undercarriage like a bat.
The bullet wound deposited in Harlem started reaping interest in Chicago, and now we're well past Walla Walla and it's aiming to make me a swell payout. Last time I staggered to the facilities, it looked like a volcano had erupted, crusted reds and blacks. Now it's eating me alive. I can't sit up in a public car. Has to be a sleeper, has to be this one; I leaped on this connecting train in Denver like an outlaw onto the town's last nag.
My heart isn't beating, it's clenching its fist at me.
Clamp-clinch. Clutch-grip.
Beastly. Tears keep welling up and my throat keeps closing, and no, I say.
You're called Nobody for a reason. Just be yourself. Be Nobody.
Be Nobody, and breathe.
Having died before, I ought to be more sanguine over the prospect. I first died six days ago at the Murder Stable, when Officer Harry Chipchase hustled me ou
Whether you're not all right, which is ever so much more interesting.
Dangerous, what with death and dismemberment potentially in hot pursuit. I couldn't go full-scale deluxe, though. A private car would have been checked first by someone searching this train, any cadet axman would chart the same course. Private cars, sleeping cars, then public seating. Maybe I ought to lend a hand to the brakeman, trade a few dirty jokes in exchange for a hiding place.
If only I could dangle from the undercarriage like a bat.
The bullet wound deposited in Harlem started reaping interest in Chicago, and now we're well past Walla Walla and it's aiming to make me a swell payout. Last time I staggered to the facilities, it looked like a volcano had erupted, crusted reds and blacks. Now it's eating me alive. I can't sit up in a public car. Has to be a sleeper, has to be this one; I leaped on this connecting train in Denver like an outlaw onto the town's last nag.
My heart isn't beating, it's clenching its fist at me.
Clamp-clinch. Clutch-grip.
Beastly. Tears keep welling up and my throat keeps closing, and no, I say.
You're called Nobody for a reason. Just be yourself. Be Nobody.
Be Nobody, and breathe.
Having died before, I ought to be more sanguine over the prospect. I first died six days ago at the Murder Stable, when Officer Harry Chipchase hustled me ou
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Autoren-Porträt von Lyndsay Faye
Lyndsay Faye is the author of five critically acclaimed books: Jane Steele, which was nominated for an Edgar for Best Novel; Dust and Shadow; The Gods of Gotham; also Edgar-nominated; Seven for a Secret; and The Fatal Flame. Faye, a true New Yorker in the sense she was born elsewhere, lives in New York City.
Bibliographische Angaben
- Autor: Lyndsay Faye
- 2019, 448 Seiten, Maße: 13,6 x 20,8 cm, Kartoniert (TB), Englisch
- Verlag: Penguin US
- ISBN-10: 0735210772
- ISBN-13: 9780735210776
- Erscheinungsdatum: 06.01.2020
Sprache:
Englisch
Pressezitat
Utterly winning . . . Faye writes a good puzzle . . . [and she s] a person meant to write, who thinks and jokes and understands by writing. It s a rare gift. New York Times Book ReviewMore Praise for The Paragon Hotel
The Paragon Hotel is set a century ago, but its themes of social and cultural upheaval feel sufficiently fresh that you might think twice about calling Lyndsay Faye s sixth novel historical fiction. But calling it terrific not for a minute should you hesitate to do that....The great strength of The Paragon Hotel is Ms. Faye s voice a blend of film noir and screwball comedy....The jauntiness of the prose doesn t hide the fact that Ms. Faye has serious business on her mind. At bottom, The Paragon Hotel is about identity and about family those we re born into and those we create. The Wall Street Journal
"With complex, believable characters and an intricate plot, this is a sprightly, enjoyable read." People
This books succeeds wildly on several levels. First, as a beautiful period piece, slangy and jazzy and bringing 1921 to brilliant life. Second, as a lesson about the racist history of Oregon. . . . And third, as a suspense story. . . . I love so much about this book. Raleigh News and Observer
This historical novel, which carries strong reverberations of present-day social and cultural upheavals, contains a message from a century ago that's useful to our own time: We need to do better at solving things. A riveting multilevel thriller of race, sex, and mob violence that throbs with menace as it hums with wit. Kirkus Reviews (starred review)
Faye once again vividly illuminates history with her fiction....remarkably fluid fiction, framed as a love letter and based in fact. Booklist (starred review)
"Faye s smart, stylish and suspenseful tale tackles timeless topics of race and gender." BookPage (starred review)
From the opening scene, this novel had me in its grip. Faye delivers a riveting story filled with
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unforgettable characters and stunning prose, while never flinching from the painful truths surrounding America s legacy of racial injustice. A remarkable, significant novel. Fiona Davis, bestselling author of The Masterpiece
Full of wry wit, dark humor and magnificent period details, The Paragon Hotel is a wickedly poetic tour de force. Laura Lane McNeal, national bestselling author of Dollbaby
Gangsters and prostitutes, nightclub singers and dodgy cops, an African-American hotel under constant threat of violence...Lyndsay Faye drops us right in the middle of the tumult of the Prohibition Era, bringing to life one of the darker times in our nation's history with wit and heart. Lauren Willig, New York Times-bestselling author of The English Wife
A novel at once thrilling and wise, historic and timely. Nobody is somebody who will stay with you long after you turn the last page. Natasha Solomons, New York Times-bestselling author of House of Gold
Full of wry wit, dark humor and magnificent period details, The Paragon Hotel is a wickedly poetic tour de force. Laura Lane McNeal, national bestselling author of Dollbaby
Gangsters and prostitutes, nightclub singers and dodgy cops, an African-American hotel under constant threat of violence...Lyndsay Faye drops us right in the middle of the tumult of the Prohibition Era, bringing to life one of the darker times in our nation's history with wit and heart. Lauren Willig, New York Times-bestselling author of The English Wife
A novel at once thrilling and wise, historic and timely. Nobody is somebody who will stay with you long after you turn the last page. Natasha Solomons, New York Times-bestselling author of House of Gold
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