Cantitate/Preț
Produs

Pedro Paramo (Serpent's Tail Classics)

De (autor) Traducere de Margaret Sayers Peden Introducere de Gabriel García Márquez
Notă GoodReads:
en Limba Engleză Paperback – 17 Jul 2014

Swearing to his dying mother that he'll find the father he has never met, a certain Pedro Páramo, Juan Preciado sets out across the barren plains of Mexico for Comala, the hallucinatory ghost town his father presided over like a feudal lord. Between the realms of the living and the dead, in fragments of dreams and the nightly whispers of Comala's ghosts, there emerges the tragic tale of Pedro Páramo and the town whose every corner holds the taint of his rotten soul.

Citește tot Restrânge
Toate formatele și edițiile
Toate formatele și edițiile Preț Express
Paperback (2) 5989 lei  22-34 zile +283 lei  6-10 zile
  Profile – 17 Jul 2014 5989 lei  22-34 zile +283 lei  6-10 zile
  Grove/Atlantic, Inc. – 10 Mar 1994 9122 lei  3-5 săpt. +678 lei  9-16 zile

Din seria Serpent's Tail Classics

Preț: 5989 lei

Puncte Express: 90

Preț estimativ în valută:
1153 1219$ 970£

Carte disponibilă

Livrare economică 09-21 iunie
Livrare express 24-28 mai pentru 1282 lei

Preluare comenzi: 021 569.72.76

Specificații

ISBN-13: 9781781253168
ISBN-10: 1781253161
Pagini: 160
Dimensiuni: 129 x 198 x 9 mm
Greutate: 0.14 kg
Ediția: Main
Editura: Profile
Colecția Serpent's Tail
Seria Serpent's Tail Classics

Locul publicării: London, United Kingdom

Notă biografică

Juan Rulfo was born in Jalisco in Mexico in 1918 and died in 1986. He is the author of The Burning Plain, a collection of short stories. Pedro Páramo is his only novel. An anthropologist by profession, Rulfo is the great voice of the peasant condition.


Recenzii

Pedro Páramo is not only one of the masterpieces of twentieth-century world literature but one of the most influential of the century's books
A simplicity and profundity worthy of Greek tragedy ... Wuthering Heights located in Mexico and written by Kafka
That night I didn't sleep until I'd read it twice; not since I had read Kafka's Metamorphosis in a dingy boarding house in Bogotá, almost ten years earlier, had I felt so thunderstruck