London, English edition
(Sprache: Englisch)
In the tradition of his phenomenal bestseller Sarum, Edward Rutherfurd now gives us a sweeping novel of London, a glorious pageant spanning two thousand years. He brings this vibrant city's long and noble history alive through the ever-shifting fortunes,...
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In the tradition of his phenomenal bestseller Sarum, Edward Rutherfurd now gives us a sweeping novel of London, a glorious pageant spanning two thousand years. He brings this vibrant city's long and noble history alive through the ever-shifting fortunes, fates, and intrigues of half-a-dozen families, from the age of Julius Caesar to the twentieth century. Generation after generation, these families embody the passion, struggle, wealth, and verve of the greatest city in the world. . . .
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54 BCFifty-four years before the birth of Christ, at the end of a cold, star-filled spring night, a crowd of two hundred people stood in a semicircle by the bank of the river and waited for the dawn.Ten days had passed since the ominous news had come.In front of them, at the water's edge, was a smaller group of five figures. Silent and still, in their long grey roves they might have been taken for so many standing stones. These were the druids, and they were about to perform a ceremony which, it was hoped, would save the island and their world.Amongst those gathered by the riverbank were three people, each of whom, whatever hopes or fears they may have had concerning the threat ahead, guarded a personal and terrible secret.One was a boy, the second a woman, the third a very old man.There were many sacred sites along the lengthy course of the river. But nowhere was the spirit of the great river so clearly present than at this quiet place.Here, sea and river met. Downstream, in a series of huge loops, the ever widening flow passed through open marshland until, about ten miles away, it finally opened out into the long, eastward funnel of the estuary and out to the cold North Sea. Upstream, the river meandered delightfully between pleasant woods and lush, level meadows. But at this point, between two of the river's great bends, lay a most gracious stretch of water, two and a half miles long, where the river flowed eastwards in a single, majestic sweep.It was tidal. At high tide, when the incoming sea in the estuary reversed the current, this river road was a thousand yards across; at low tide, only three hundred. In the centre, halfway along the southern bank where the marshes formed little islands, a single gravel spit jutted out into the stream forming a promontory at low water, and becoming an island when the tide was high. It was on the top of this spit that the little crowd was standing. Opposite them, on the northern bank, lay the place,now deserted, that bore the
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name of Londinos.Londinos. Even now, in the dawning light, the shape of the ancient place could be seen clearly across the water: two low gravel hills with levelled tops rising side by side about eighty feet above the waterfront. Between the two hills ran a little brook. To the left, on the western flank, a larger stream descended to a broad inlet that interrupted the northern bank.On the eastern side of the two hills, there had once been a small hillfort whose low earthwork wall, now empty, could serve as a lookout post for vessels approaching from the estuary. The western hill was sometimes used by the druids when they sacrificed oxen.And the was all there was. An abandoned settlement. A sacred spot. The tribal centres were to the north and south. The tribes over whom the great chief Cassivelaunus was master lived in the huge eastern tracts above the estuary. The tribe of Cantii, in the long peninsula south of the estuary, had already given thatregion the name of Kent. The river was a border between them, Londinos a sort of no-man's-land.The very name was obscure. Some said that a man called Londinos had lived there; others suggested that it might refer to the little earthwork on the eastern hill. But nobody knew. Somehow, in the last thousand years, the place had got the name.The cold breeze was coming up the river from the estuary. There was a faint, sharp smell of mud and riverweed. Above, the bright morning star was beginning to fade as the clear sky turned to a paler blue.The boy shivered. He had been standing an hour and he was cold. Like most of the folk there, he wore a simple woolen tunic that reached to the knees and was fastened at the waist with a leather belt. Beside him stood his mother holding a baby, and his sister little Branwen, whom he held by the hand. For it was his task at such times to keep her in order.He was a brigh
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Autoren-Porträt von Edward Rutherfurd
Autoren-Porträt von Edward Rutherfurd
Edward Rutherfurd wurde in Salisbury geboren. Er studiertein Cambridge und lebte dann in New York. Um "Sarum" zu schreiben, denRoman über seine Geburtsstadt, der weltweit die Bestsellerlisten eroberte,kehrte er nach England zurück.
Bibliographische Angaben
- Autor: Edward Rutherfurd
- 1998, 1152 Seiten, Maße: 10,5 x 17,5 cm, Taschenbuch, Englisch
- Verlag: Fawcett Crest
- ISBN-10: 0449002632
- ISBN-13: 9780449002636
Sprache:
Englisch
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