Where Bones Dance: An English Girlhood, An African WarTerrace Books, 2007-04-01 - 318 psl. In this stunning debut novel, a child dissects the darkness at the heart of her British diplomatic family. Living in Nigeria on the brink of civil war, Annaalso known as Jakebecomes blood brothers with Dave, the Korean American daughter of a C.I.A. operative. They do push-ups, collect pornography, and plot lives of unmarried freedom while around them a country disintegrates. Luscious, terrifying, and raw, Nigeria itself becomes a lesson in endurance, suffering, love. Stories are layered upon stories: Anna's grandmother tells stories about life as a white woman on the Gold Coast; the clairvoyant and closeted "Aunt" Elsie gives Anna a story of transformation to hold onto in the coming tumult of adolescence. Yet Where Bones Dance also spirals down to the stories that are not toldsexual abuse, the myth of benign colonialism, the chaos of postcolonial Africa. Sensual and fantastical by turns, this moving, funny, immensely readable book delivers an understanding of the interplay of sexuality, gender, race, and war that is sophisticated beyond the years of its intrepid narrator. Winner, Georges Bugnet Award for Novel, Alberta Literary Awards, Writers Guild of Alberta Best Books for General Audiences, selected by the American Association of School Librarians and the Public Library Association |
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4 psl.
... face,herIbo lines. She tells how the women cut the child's skin with a knife. They mix mud with the blood. There's earth in her arms, in her face. It is for beauty and strength. It must hurt. Where do you come from? I ask. Omomwe ...
... face,herIbo lines. She tells how the women cut the child's skin with a knife. They mix mud with the blood. There's earth in her arms, in her face. It is for beauty and strength. It must hurt. Where do you come from? I ask. Omomwe ...
7 psl.
... Faces look out at me. I see their eyes. But when I look back, they're gone. We go on and then we reach the place where there's a little wooden jetty. There are people there already. My father cuts the engine, swinging the boat to the ...
... Faces look out at me. I see their eyes. But when I look back, they're gone. We go on and then we reach the place where there's a little wooden jetty. There are people there already. My father cuts the engine, swinging the boat to the ...
11 psl.
... your mother if you may. Oh yes, thank you, I say, trying to see Helen's face. Maybe she doesn't want me to. She's kicking the dirt with her sneakers. 11 C y c l e 1 Yeah, she says, and we'll wrestle again. Best of three.
... your mother if you may. Oh yes, thank you, I say, trying to see Helen's face. Maybe she doesn't want me to. She's kicking the dirt with her sneakers. 11 C y c l e 1 Yeah, she says, and we'll wrestle again. Best of three.
14 psl.
... face get red and shiny and like it is bigger than me. I can't make the picture go away: the shiny pink sash and the white dress sticking out around my knees, Mrs. Hawkins's voice going gracefully, gracefully, girls and then I am high ...
... face get red and shiny and like it is bigger than me. I can't make the picture go away: the shiny pink sash and the white dress sticking out around my knees, Mrs. Hawkins's voice going gracefully, gracefully, girls and then I am high ...
15 psl.
... face like she is riding a horse in the desert. She is moving up and down only it feels like water hitting the side ... face? I say. Who made it flat? She is still looking at me. She doesn't smile. Say that again, she says, I'll sit ...
... face like she is riding a horse in the desert. She is moving up and down only it feels like water hitting the side ... face? I say. Who made it flat? She is still looking at me. She doesn't smile. Say that again, she says, I'll sit ...
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