Résultats de "Becket" dans Toutes les catégories

The Last Prophet is a novel based on the extraordinary life of the prophet Muhammad, one-time shepherd and outcast revolutionary. This desert master’s discipline and principles would later become the basis for Islam, which today claims two billion followers.

'The sun shone, having no alternative, on the nothing new.' So opens Murphy, Samuel Beckett's first novel, published in 1938. Its work-shy eponymous hero, adrift in London, realises that desire can never be satisfied and withdraws from life, in search of stupor. Murphy's lovestruck fiancée, Celia, tries with tragic pathos to draw him back, but her attempts are doomed to failure. In Dublin, Murphy's friends and familiars are simulacra of him, fragmented and incomplete. They come to London in search of him.

Written initially in French, later translated by the author into English, Molloy is the first book in Dublin-born Samuel Beckett's trilogy. It was published shortly after WWII and marked a new, mature writing style, which was to dominate the remainder of his working life. Molloy is less a novel than a set of two monologues narrated by Molloy and his pursuer, Moran.

Composed of over 60 per cent water itself, a human body isn't naturally buoyant. It will float only for as long as there is air in its lungs before gradually sinking to the bottom as the air seeps out. If the water is very cold or deep, it will remain there, undergoing a slow, dark dissolution that can take years. But if the water is warm enough for bacteria to feed and multiply, then it will continue to decompose. Gases will build up in the intestines, increasing the body's buoyancy until it floats again. And the dead will literally rise....

Madame Rooney, geignarde et semi-impotente, "pourrie de chagrin et de graisse et de douleurs et de stérilité", et qui rêve de "se répandre par terre comme une bouse et ne plus bouger", va chercher son mari aveugle à la gare. Elle rencontre en chemin différentes connaissances. Lorsque le train arrive, en retard, le couple entreprend un retour lent et pénible.

It’s been a good summer for forensics expert Dr David Hunter. His relationship is going well, and he’s in demand again as a police consultant. Life is good. Then a call comes from an old associate: a body has been found, and she’d like Hunter to take a look. The empty shell of St Jude’s Hospital now stands awaiting demolition, its only visitors society’s outcasts, addicts and dealers. A partially mummified corpse has been discovered in the hospital’s cavernous loft, but not even Hunter can say how long it’s been there.

The Unnamable is the third novel in Beckett's trilogy, three remarkable prose works in which men of increasingly debilitating physical circumstances act, ponder, consider and rage against impermanence and the human condition. The Unnamable is without doubt the most uncompromising text and it is read here in startling fashion by Sean Barrett.

There is now no doubt that not only is Waiting for Godot the outstanding play of the 20th century, but it is also Samuel Beckett's masterpiece. Yet it is both a popular text to be studied at school and an enigma. The scene is a country road. There is a solitary tree. It is evening. Two tramp-like figures, Vladimir and Estragon, exchange words. Pull off boots. Munch a root vegetable. Two other curious characters enter. And a boy. Time passes. It is all strange yet familiar.

Die Gezeiten spülen einen Toten auf eine schlammige Sandbank in den Backwaters, einem abgelegenen Mündungsgebiet in Essex. Die Wasserleiche ist stark verwest, Hände und Füße fehlen. Das Gesicht ist nicht mehr zu erkennen. Trotzdem glaubt die Polizei zu wissen, um wen es sich handelt: Ein junger Mann aus dem Ort ist seit Wochen verschwunden, alles deutet auf Selbstmord hin.

‘At first glance it could have been anything – a stone, a knotted root – until you looked more closely. Thrusting out of the wet earth, its bones visible through rags of flesh, was a decomposing hand…’It was eight years ago that they found the body buried on the moor. They were certain that this was one of psychotic rapist and multiple murderer Jerome Monk’s teenage victims. Which left just two more bodies to find.

Recuperating from a near-fatal attack, forensic anthropologist David Hunter has returned to the renowned research facility where he first trained - the Body Farm in Tennessee. Still bearing physical and emotional scars, he hopes the trip will hone his old skills and restore his shattered confidence. So when his former mentor invites him to assist on a murder investigation, he agrees. After all, he's simply there as an observer - what could possibly go wrong? But even Hunter is unprepared by the gruesome nature of the killing.

How It Is, a landmark in 20th century literature, is one of the most challenging of Samuel Beckett's early novels. He published it first in French in 1961 and then in his own translation in 1964. He explained in a letter that it was the outpouring of a "'man' lying panting in the mud and dark murmuring his 'life' as he hears it obscurely uttered by a voice inside him.... The noise of his panting fills his ears and it is only when this abates that he can catch and murmur forth a fragment of what is being stated within...."

When the bizarrely mutilated body of a young woman is found near the tiny isolated Norfolk village of Manham, it isn't just the fact that she was a friend that disturbs Dr David Hunter. A one-time high-profile forensic anthropologist, he was once all too familiar with the different faces of death, until a devastating personal tragedy made him abandon his former life and career.

Even an alpha pup can change an innocent mortal like me into a shape-shifting powerhouse. Flung into a new world where submission might mean death and pack politics rule the secret supernatural society, I'm lost but not alone. With the pup's father, Hudson, and his packmates leading me through this strange environment, I feel as though I could take on the world. They have everything I need; confidence, power, money. And I'm everything they could ever want. I haven't been on a date in years, and now I have four gorgeous, rich werewolves chasing me. What's a girl to do?

"Die Toten machten mir keine Angst. Es waren die Lebenden, die mir Albträume bereiteten." Undurchdringlicher Nebel umgibt das heruntergekommene Hotel, im alten Gemäuer sitzt klamme Kälte. Inmitten eines Wintersturms ist Dr. David Hunter im walisischen Snowdonia gestrandet. Das "Forest Hotel" wird von einem Ehepaar geführt, das sich alles andere als freundlich gibt, doch der forensische Anthropologe hat keine andere Wahl, als hier die Nacht zu verbringen.

On his way back from an ongoing investigation into a serial killer in Scotland, forensic anthropologist David Hunter is asked to examine a fire-death on the remote Hebridean island of Runa. Told only that there is something 'strange' about it, Hunter is intrigued enough to accept - despite the worsening winter weather conditions, and the strain it will put on his already troubled relationship with his girlfriend, Jenny.

Watt tells the tale of Mr Knott's servant and his attempts to get to know his master. Watt's mistake is to derive the essence of his master from the accidentals of his being, and his painstakingly logical attempts to 'know' ultimately consign him to the asylum. Itself a critique of error, Watt has previously appeared in editions that are littered with mistakes, both major and minor.

Reviewing Twin Peaks, one episode at a time!

Als Jonah das Blut roch, war ihm klar, dass er in Schwierigkeiten steckte. Jonah Colley ist Mitglied einer bewaffneten Spezialeinheit der Londoner Polizei. Seit sein Sohn Theo vor zehn Jahren spurlos verschwand, liegt sein Leben in Scherben. Damals brach auch der Kontakt zu seinem besten Freund Gavin ab. Nun meldet Gavin sich überraschend und bittet um ein Treffen. Doch in dem verlassenen Lagerhaus findet Jonah nur seine Leiche, daneben drei weitere Tote. Fest in Plastikplane eingewickelt, sehen sie aus wie Kokons...

I grew up chasing the fae through the garden, pretending I saw ghosts in the house, and dreaming of dragons. That's all long behind me now. Mother's spells didn't save her, and in turn, I dedicated myself to science. Work as a paleontologist is everything I dreamed it could be. You find solid facts buried thousands of years ago. You can quantify those facts. It's real. You can touch it, prove it, and most of all - you know it works. My team never meant to find a nest of dragon eggs at a dig site. And I'm the only one who recognizes what they are.