Black Beauty: (Penguin Classics Deluxe Edition) - Brossura

Sewell, Anna

Brossura

ISBN 10: 0143106473 ISBN 13: 9780143106470

Casa editrice: Penguin Classics, 2011

Riassunto

Anna Sewell's moving story is one of the best-loved animal adventures ever written, this Penguin Threads edition of Black Beauty includes a new foreword by Pulitzer Prize winner Jane Smiley, cover art by Jillian Tamaki and deluxe French flaps. Commissioned by award-winning Penguin art director Paul Buckley, the Penguin Threads series debuts with cover art by Jillian Tamaki for three gift-worthy Penguin Classics. Sketched out in a traditional illustrative manner, then hand stitched using needle and thread, the final covers are sculpt embossed for a tactile, textured, and beautiful book design that will appeal to the Etsy(tm)-loving world of handmade crafts.

Su questo libro

L'autore:

ANNA MARY SEWELL (1789-1884) was born in Great Yarmouth, Norfolk, England to Isaac Phillip Sewell
and Mary Wright Sewell. Educated at home until age twelve, Sewell attended school for the first time after her family moved to Stoke Newington. At fourteen, she slipped while walking home from school and severely injured both of her ankles. Most likely due to inappropriate treatment of her injuries, Sewell remained disabled for the rest of her life and could not walk or stand without a crutch. Her need for horse-drawn carriages and her constant close proximity to horses lead to her increased awareness and concern for their humane treatment. Sewell wrote BLACK BEAUTY, her only published work, from 1871 to 1877 amid declining health. Her goal was to encourage the kind treatment of horses, though the work has remained popular as a children's classic. Sewell died on April 25, 1878, five months after BLACK BEAUTY's publication.

JANE SMILEY (foreword) is the Pulitzer Prize-winning author of A THOUSAND ACRES and more than ten
other works of fiction, as well as three works of nonfiction, including a critically acclaimed biography of Charles Dickens. In 2001 she was inducted into the American Academy of Arts and Letters. She lives in northern California.

JILLIAN TAMAKI is an illustrator and comics artist. She grew up on the Canadian Prairies and currently lives in Brooklyn, NY. Her work has been published in THE NEW YORK TIMES, THE NEW YORKER and NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC, among others. She has two books of personal work, and a graphic novel that she made with her cousin Mariko Tamaki.

Estratto. © Riproduzione autorizzata. Diritti riservati.:

My Early Home

The first place that I can well remember was a large pleasant meadow with a pond of clear water in it. Some shady trees leaned over it, and rushes and water lilies grew at the deep end. Over the hedge on one side we looked into a plowed field, and on the other we looked over a gate at our master's house, which stood by the roadside. At the top of the meadow was a plantation of fir trees, and at the bottom a running brook overhung by a steep bank.

While I was young I lived upon my mother's milk, as I could not eat grass. In the daytime I ran by her side, and at night I lay down close by her. When it was hot we used to stand by the pond in the shade of the trees, and when it was cold we had a nice warm shed near the plantation.

As soon as I was old enough to eat grass, my mother used to go out to work in the daytime and come back in the evening.

There were six young colts in the meadow besides me. They were older than I was; some were nearly as large as grown-up horses. I used to run with them, and had great fun; we used to gallop all together round and round the field, as hard as we could go. Sometimes we had rather rough play, for they would frequently bite and kick as well as gallop.

One day, when there was a good deal of kicking, my mother whinnied to me to come to her, and then she said:

"I wish you to pay attention to what I am going to say to you. The colts who live here are very good colts, but they are carthorse colts and, of course, they have not learned manners. You have been well bred and well born; your father has a great name in these parts, and your grandfather won the cup two years at the Newmarket races. Your grandmother had the sweetest temper of any horse I ever knew, and I think you have never seen me kick or bite. I hope you will grow up gentle and good, and never learn bad ways; do your work with a good will, lift your feet up well when you trot, and never bite or kick even in play."

I have never forgotten my mother's advice. I knew she was a wise old horse, and our master thought a great deal of her. Her name was Duchess, but he often called her Pet.

Our master was a good, kind man. He gave us good food, good lodging, and kind words; he spoke as kindly to us as he did to his little children. We were all fond of him, and my mother loved him very much. When she saw him at the gate, she would neigh with joy, and trot up to him. He would pat and stroke her and say, "Well, old Pet, and how is your little Darkie?" I was a dull black, so he called me Darkie, then he would give me a piece of bread, which was very good, and sometimes he brought a carrot for my mother. All the horses would come to him, but I think we were his favorites. My mother always took him to the town on a market day in a light gig.

There was a plowboy, Dick, who sometimes came into our field to pluck blackberries from the hedge. When he had eaten all he wanted, he would have what he called fun with the colts, throwing stones and sticks at them to make them gallop. We did not much mind him, for we could gallop off, but sometimes a stone would hit and hurt us.

One day he was at this game and did not know that the master was in the next field, but he was there, watching what was going on. Over the hedge he jumped in a snap, and catching Dick by the arm, he gave him such a box on the ear as made him roar with the pain and surprise. As soon as we saw the master, we trotted up nearer to see what went on.

"Bad boy!" he said. "Bad boy to chase the colts! This is not the first time, nor the second, but it shall be the last. There--take your money and go home. I shall not want you on my farm again." So we never saw Dick anymore. Old Daniel, the man who looked after the horses, was just as gentle as our master, so we were well off.

CHAPTER 2

The Hunt

I was two years old when a circumstance happened which I have never forgotten. It was early in the spring; there had been a little frost in the night, and a light mist still hung over the plantations and meadows. I and the other colts were feeding at the lower part of the field when we heard, quite in the distance, what sounded like the cry of dogs. The oldest of the colts raised his head, pricked his ears, and said, "There are the hounds!" and immediately cantered off, followed by the rest of us to the upper part of the field, where we could look over the hedge and see several fields beyond. My mother and an old riding horse of our master's were also standing near, and seemed to know all about it.

"They have found a hare," said my mother, "and if they come this way we shall see the hunt."

And soon the dogs were all tearing down the field of young wheat next to ours. I never heard such a noise as they made. They did not bark, nor howl, nor whine, but kept on a "yo! yo, o, o! yo! yo, o, o!" at the top of their voices. After them came a number of men on horseback, some of them in green coats, all galloping as fast as they could. The old horse snorted and looked eagerly after them, and we young colts wanted to be galloping with them, but they were soon away into the fields lower down. Here it seemed as if they had come to a stand; the dogs left off barking and ran about every way with their noses to the ground.

Su questa edizione

• Editore: Penguin Classics
• Data di pubblicazione: 2011
• ISBN 10: 0143106473
• ISBN 13: 9780143106470
• Rilegatura: Copertina flessibile
• Numero di pagine: 224
• Disegnatore: Tamaki Jillian