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Bezig met laden... The Dawn of a To-morrowdoor Frances Hodgson Burnett
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Meld je aan bij LibraryThing om erachter te komen of je dit boek goed zult vinden. Op dit moment geen Discussie gesprekken over dit boek. A slightly strange short novel by an author better known for children's fiction. Antony Dart is the hero, and we meet him in dingy lodgings (despite being, evidently, a gentleman). He is depressed, and has determined to end it all. The style is rather gothic at first with lengthy descriptions of the London fog that was common a hundred years ago, and which is responsible, a little later on, for Antony losing his way back to his lodgings after buying a hand gun. He throws a pound to an urchin girl and is persuaded to buy some coffee.. and gradually becomes aware of a world far removed from his own. Overall it's an encouraging book, with a fairly overt message about the ignorance of the wealthy, and the plight of the impoverished. There are messages too about being content in any circumstances, and looking for positives, and also a surprisingly modern Christian viewpoint, unexpected from a writer who was far from mainstream in her beliefs. Not recommended for children, but as a thought-provoking and fairly quick read for anyone interested in the social history of Victorian times, or indeed looking for a different kind of story. Free for the Kindle. I'm reading a biography of Burnett so I sought out what was available on Project Gutenberg. This is a rather sentimental Victorian tale of despair and redemption. It isn't as heavy handed as some of them but still falls on the nobility of poverty argument, with some good old fashion Victorian Protestantism tossed in for good measure. Still, a nice break from plowing through more Henry James. geen besprekingen | voeg een bespreking toe
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Google Books — Bezig met laden... GenresDewey Decimale Classificatie (DDC)813.4Literature English (North America) American fiction Later 19th Century 1861-1900LC-classificatieWaarderingGemiddelde:
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'"If you could do what you liked," he said, "what would you like to do?"
Her chuckle became an outright laugh.
"If I 'ad ten pounds?" she asked, evidently prepared to adjust herself in imagination to any form of unlooked-for good luck.
"If you had more?"
"If I 'ad a wand like the one Jem told me was in the pantermine?"
"Yes," he answered.
She sat and stared at the fire a few moments, and then began to speak in a low luxuriating voice.
"I'd get a better room," she said, revelling. "There's one in the next 'ouse. I'd 'ave a few sticks o' furnisher in it—a bed an' a chair or two. I'd get some warm petticuts an' a shawl an' a 'at—with a ostrich feather in it. Polly an' me'd live together. We'd 'ave fire an' grub every day, I'd get drunken Bet's biby put in an 'ome. I'd 'elp the women when they 'ad to lie up. I'd—I'd 'elp 'im a bit," with a jerk of her elbow toward the thief. "If 'e was kept fed p'r'aps 'e could work out that thing in 'is 'ead. I'd go round the court an' 'elp them with 'usbands that knocks 'em about. I'd—I'd put a stop to the knockin' about," a queer fixed look showing itself in her eyes. "If I 'ad money I could do it. 'Ow much," with sudden prudence, "could a body 'ave—with one o' them wands?"' ( )