ISBN: 9781940450421 - remains (6 risultati)

Hardcover. Condizione: Good. No Jacket. Pages can have notes/highlighting. Spine may show signs of wear. ~ ThriftBooks: Read More, Spend Less.

Condizione: good. The item shows wear from consistent use, but it remains in good condition and works perfectly. All pages and cover are intact including the dust cover, if applicable . Spine may show signs of wear. Pages may include limited notes and highlighting. May NOT include discs, access code or other supplemental materials.…

Hardback. Condizione: Good. Jesús Castillo has created a sprawling contemporary epic that channels the mighty voices of the past (Ovid, Sappho) into a plainspoken song of our times. In a deft, generous style, Castillo takes hold of the stuff of our everyday lives and converts it into modern manna. The book is lovingly relentless, quietly piercing. It is a terrifyingly recognizable call: it is filled with all of our voices, our panic, our modern love, our screens, our roommate's cough, our melting icebergs, our planes and malls and frailties. Castillo writes, This is a test. A set of margins created for company. For waiting in train stations or asking a stranger the time. You're allowed to freak out this much only. There's a green car parked outside, by the curb, near the bike racks. An old man is asking people to put change in his plastic cup, and I remember my name contains both my father's and grandfather's stories. The table I'm sitting at is made of steel and marble. It's cold and it's spring. In the song on the radio, a noise. …

Hardback. Condizione: Very Good. Jesús Castillo has created a sprawling contemporary epic that channels the mighty voices of the past (Ovid, Sappho) into a plainspoken song of our times. In a deft, generous style, Castillo takes hold of the stuff of our everyday lives and converts it into modern manna. The book is lovingly relentless, quietly piercing. It is a terrifyingly recognizable call: it is filled with all of our voices, our panic, our modern love, our screens, our roommate's cough, our melting icebergs, our planes and malls and frailties. Castillo writes, This is a test. A set of margins created for company. For waiting in train stations or asking a stranger the time. You're allowed to freak out this much only. There's a green car parked outside, by the curb, near the bike racks. An old man is asking people to put change in his plastic cup, and I remember my name contains both my father's and grandfather's stories. The table I'm sitting at is made of steel and marble. It's cold and it's spring. In the song on the radio, a noise.…

Hardback. Condizione: Good. Jesús Castillo has created a sprawling contemporary epic that channels the mighty voices of the past (Ovid, Sappho) into a plainspoken song of our times. In a deft, generous style, Castillo takes hold of the stuff of our everyday lives and converts it into modern manna. The book is lovingly relentless, quietly piercing. It is a terrifyingly recognizable call: it is filled with all of our voices, our panic, our modern love, our screens, our roommate's cough, our melting icebergs, our planes and malls and frailties. Castillo writes, This is a test. A set of margins created for company. For waiting in train stations or asking a stranger the time. You're allowed to freak out this much only. There's a green car parked outside, by the curb, near the bike racks. An old man is asking people to put change in his plastic cup, and I remember my name contains both my father's and grandfather's stories. The table I'm sitting at is made of steel and marble. It's cold and it's spring. In the song on the radio, a noise. …

Hardback. Condizione: Very Good. Jesús Castillo has created a sprawling contemporary epic that channels the mighty voices of the past (Ovid, Sappho) into a plainspoken song of our times. In a deft, generous style, Castillo takes hold of the stuff of our everyday lives and converts it into modern manna. The book is lovingly relentless, quietly piercing. It is a terrifyingly recognizable call: it is filled with all of our voices, our panic, our modern love, our screens, our roommate's cough, our melting icebergs, our planes and malls and frailties. Castillo writes, This is a test. A set of margins created for company. For waiting in train stations or asking a stranger the time. You're allowed to freak out this much only. There's a green car parked outside, by the curb, near the bike racks. An old man is asking people to put change in his plastic cup, and I remember my name contains both my father's and grandfather's stories. The table I'm sitting at is made of steel and marble. It's cold and it's spring. In the song on the radio, a noise.…