Self Storage: A NovelFlan Parker has always had an inquisitive mind, searching for what’s hidden below the surface and behind the door. Her curious nature and enthusiastic probing have translated into a thriving resale business in the university housing complex where she lives with her husband and two young children. Flan’s venture helps pay the bills while her husband works on his dissertation, work that lately seems to involve more loafing on the sofa watching soap operas than reading or writing. The secret of her enterprising success: unique and everyday treasures bought from the auctions of forgotten and abandoned storage units. When Flan secures the winning bid on a box filled only with an address and a note bearing the word “yes,” she sets out to discover the source of this mysterious message and its meaning. Armed with a well-worn copy of Walt Whitman’s Leaves of Grass that she turns to for guidance and solace, Flan becomes determined to find the “yes” in her own life. This search inward only strengthens her desire to unearth the hidden stories of those around her–in particular, her burqa-clad Afghan neighbor. Flan’s interest in this intriguing and secretive woman, however, comes at a formidable price for Flan and her family. Set during the year following the September 11 attacks, Self Storage explores the raw insecurities of a changed society. With lush writing, great humor, and a genuine heart, Gayle Brandeis takes a peek into the souls of a woman and a community–and reveals that it is not our differences that drive us apart but our willful concealment of the qualities that connect us. |
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LibraryThing Review
Пользовательский отзыв - lonepalm - LibraryThingAn engaging and incredibly touching novel: Gayle Brandeis, winner of the Bellwether Prize for Fiction in Support of a Literature of Social Change (THE BOOK OF DEAD BIRDS), has penned another novel ... Читать весь отзыв
SELF STORAGE
Пользовательский отзыв - KirkusAn agreeable, if somewhat routine, novel of a young woman attempting to bring order and meaning to her life, from the author of The Book of Dead Birds (2003).Flan (short for Flannery) has an unusual ... Читать весь отзыв
Содержание
Раздел 11 | 211 |
Раздел 12 | 213 |
Раздел 13 | 219 |
Раздел 14 | 222 |
Раздел 15 | 238 |
Раздел 16 | 255 |
Раздел 17 | 273 |
Раздел 18 | 281 |
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able arms asked auction baby blue body breath burqa called closed clothes couldn't couple dark didn't door everything eyes face feel feet felt Flan floor front girl give going grass ground hair hand happened head hoped hospital imagined inside Julia keep kids kiss kitchen knew leave lifted light lips live looked Mama mouth move never Noodle Nori Nori's once picked probably pulled rest seemed Shae shirt side sitting sleep smell Sodaba someone sound stand started stay storage stuff sure talk tell thing thought told took touch trees tried trying turned unit voice waiting walked wanted watched wearing Whitman whole window woman wondered writing
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Стр. 256 - I CELEBRATE myself, and sing myself, And what I assume you shall assume, For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you, I loafe and invite my soul, I lean and loafe at,fhy ease observing a spear of summer grass.
Стр. 262 - Walt Whitman, a kosmos, of Manhattan the son, Turbulent, fleshy, sensual, eating, drinking and breeding, No sentimentalist, no stander above men and women or apart from them, No more modest than immodest.
Стр. 260 - This is the meal equally set, this the meat for natural hunger, It is for the wicked just the same as the righteous, I make appointments with all, I will not have a single person slighted or left away, The kept-woman, sponger, thief, are hereby invited, The heavy-lipp'd slave is invited, the venerealee is invited; There shall be no difference between them and the rest.
Стр. 268 - My signs are a rain-proof coat, good shoes, and a staff cut from the woods, No friend of mine takes his ease in my chair, I have no chair, no church, no philosophy...
Стр. 268 - This day before dawn I ascended a hill and look'd at the crowded heaven, And I said to my spirit When we become the enfolders of those orbs, and the pleasure and knowledge of every thing in them, shall we be fill'd and satisfied then? And my spirit said No, we but level that lift to pass and continue beyond.