Louis Bayard

The Pale Blue Eye (eBook, ePUB)

A Novel

• Format: ePub

Produktbeschreibung

Now a Netflix film starring Christian Bale, Harry Melling, and Gillian Anderson

Shockingly clever and devoutly unsentimental . . . reads like a lost classic. Bayard reinvigorates historical fiction. New York Times Book Review

An ingenious tale of murder and revenge at West Point, featuring a retired detective and a young cadet named Edgar Allan Poefrom the author of Courting Mr. Lincoln.

At West Point Academy in 1830, the calm of an October evening is shattered by the discovery of a young cadet's body swinging from a rope. The next morning, an even greater horror comes to light. Someone has removed the dead man's heart.

Augustus Landorwho acquired some renown in his years as a New York City police detectiveis called in to discreetly investigate. It's a baffling case Landor must pursue in secret, for the scandal could do irreparable damage to the fledgling institution. But he finds help from an unexpected allya moody, young cadet with a penchant for drink, two volumes of poetry to his name, and a murky past that changes from telling to telling.

The strange and haunted Southern poet, for whom Landor develops a fatherly affection, is named Edgar Allan Poe.

---

Dieser Download kann aus rechtlichen Gründen nur mit Rechnungsadresse in A, B, BG, CY, CZ, D, DK, EW, E, FIN, F, GR, HR, H, IRL, I, LT, L, LR, M, NL, PL, P, R, S, SLO, SK ausgeliefert werden.

Produktdetails

• Verlag: HarperCollins
• Erscheinungstermin: 13. Oktober 2009
• Englisch
• ISBN-13: 9780061748912
• Artikelnr.: 37995695

Autorenporträt

A writer, book reviewer, and the author of Mr. Timothy and The Pale Blue Eye, Louis Bayard has written for the New York Times, Washington Post, and Salon.com, among other media outlets. He lives in Washington, D.C.

Rezensionen

Really outstanding crime fiction is rare . . . so it's a joy to see Louis Bayard pull off this coup . . . As gory and melodramatic as Poe's own writing . . . brilliantly plotted and completely absorbing, ending with the kind of shock that few novelists are able to deliver Sunday Times