By Sena Jeter Naslund
From the hole line—"Captain Ahab used to be neither my first husband nor my last"—you will be aware of that you're within the fingers of a grasp storyteller and within the corporation of a desirable girl hero. encouraged by means of a short passage in Moby-Dick, Sena Jeter Naslund has created a charming and compellingly readable saga, spanning a wealthy, eventful, and dramatic existence. instantly a family members drama, a romantic event, and a portrait of a true and loving marriage, Ahab's Wife supplies new standpoint at the American experience.
This P.S. version positive factors an additional sixteen pages of insights into the e-book, together with writer interviews, advised examining, and more.
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Additional info for Ahab's Wife: Or, The Star-Gazer: A Novel
At the corner of my eye, I saw a goat jumping, jumping as though to greet us. And then when I looked closer, it was a white apron ﬂapping, and a little girl, jumping and jumping—Cousin Frannie. And I remembered that Aunt Agatha had written I would be good company for her little girl, isolated on the Island. She was four, and I loved her at once for her joyful jumping. Soon we were disembarked, and when I hugged Frannie, I felt I was hugging a sturdy little churn. The moment I let go of her, the dasher inside made her jump and jump again with joy.
I took her to the mirror and framed both our faces. She looked solemnly at us. ‘‘I think we look alike,’’ I said. She did not laugh. ’’ For three days, we prepared for Susan’s journey. When the neighbors returned, she folded herself back into the Nantucket sea chest. L I K E A S T O N E S T A T U E I walked away from my cabin with them. Like a juggernaut, that stone car pulled forward relentlessly by the Hindi, I was pulled forward, arms outstretched, by my neighbors. I do not know how my adamantine body was able to bend enough to sit in the wagon.
We named the baby Liberty, but he was listless and did not try to suckle me. Though I had no belief, I bargained with God, offered my life instead, but the universe did not listen. I planned how Susan could have taken my baby with her, had I died. Found sanctuary from the cold as soon as they crossed into freedom. But my baby died. Susan stayed with me. That night with the wind howling above the snow-laden roof, I thought of wind in canvas, at sea, and of Ahab, sailing the South Seas. Standing at the rail each morning, Ahab surely would think that each new day the sun might be message-boy with news of a child for his old age.