Download Angelica: A Novel by Arthur Phillips PDF

By Arthur Phillips

From the bestselling writer of The Egyptologist and Prague comes a fair extra complete and fully fabulous new novel. Angelica is a spellbinding Victorian ghost tale, an interesting literary and mental puzzle, and a meditation on marriage, adolescence, reminiscence, and fear.

The novel opens in London, within the Eighties, with the Barton loved ones near to cave in. mom, father, and daughter galvanize each other, consciously and unconsciously, and a frightening drawback is caused. because the family’s tragedy is instructed numerous instances from varied views, occasions are recast and sympathies shift.
In the darkish of evening, a chilling sexual spectre is making its manner throughout the apartment, soaring over the dozing lady and terrorizing her fragile mom. Are those visions actual, or is there anything extra sinister, and extra human, to worry? A spiritualist is summoned to cleanse where of its terrors, yet along with her arrival the complexities of rationale and hope in simple terms multiply. The mother’s failing well-being and the father’s many secrets and techniques gasoline the transforming into conflicts, whereas the daughter flirts dangerously with fact and fantasy.

While Angelica is such as such vintage horror stories as The flip of the Screw and The Haunting of Hill House, it's also a completely sleek exploration of identification, truth, and love. Set on the sunrise of psychoanalysis and the height of spiritualism’s attractiveness, Angelica is additionally an evocative old novel that explores the undying human starvation for simple task.

Angelica, Arthur Phillip's spellbinding 3rd publication, cements this younger novelist's attractiveness as the most effective writers in the US, a storyteller who combines Nabokovian wit and subtlety with a story urgency that opponents Stephen King"  –Washington Post

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Extra info for Angelica: A Novel

Example text

An idea both sweet and horrid: they shared nightmares. Hard coins had pressed into those tiny soft dream hands, too, and the dream pain tore forth waking screams. She snuffed the candle out. When her eyes had adjusted, and a gray shadow of a sleeping girl had formed, she climbed the stairs in the dark. She recalled Sarah Close whispering to her in the black of one long Refuge night that dreams were restless and scattery and sometimes seeped from one sleeper to another in close proximity, or to one whose heart was tied to yours by God.

She swept the girl into her arms, pressed her awkwardly against her, difficult to hold the weight and sprawling limbs. “Mamma,” murmured the blinking girl. ” Constance pulled the child’s contorted hand from between their tightly pressed bodies. ” The girl’s face changed, and she sobbed slightly, repeated her pathetic plea, “My hand,” before closing her eyes. Constance set the child back on the bed, where she at once rolled away, her hands pressed under her cheek. Only with difficulty could Constance pull them free and examine them.

Nevertheless, the sight of Angelica playing by herself and, unknowingly observed, rubbing her hand as if it pained her, brought Constance a moment of potent, swift feeling, tears welling above pursed lips. She left the girl at play with Joseph’s jolly assertion that, despite this being Nora’s monthly day at liberty, he could safely pass an hour alone with his own child, thank you. Bowing her head before his routine mockery of her “superstitions” and his routine refusal to allow Angelica to accompany her, Constance took her leave and departed for church alone.

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