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Der vokser et Træ i Brooklyn. Roman. Overs. fra engelsk efter "A tree grows in Brooklyn" ved Gunner Gersov. Omslagstegning: Svend Otto af Betty Smith (1943)
atimco: Both stories are semi-autobiographical and tell the story of a young, sensitive girl coming of age in a poor community. The heroines have similar family structures (attractive, hardworking mother, generally absent/weak father, younger brother who fits into his surroundings better than his older sister). The historical setting is very important to both works and almost acts as a character in its own right.… (mere)
RidgewayGirl: Set in 1939, The Tin Flute is also a beautifully told coming of age story, this time of a young, working class French-Canadian girl in Quebec.
iMagic: My all time favorite book. A must read. Ruth McBride was a force to be reckoned with. Raised 12 phenomenal children. One of them wrote this book about her life as the daughter of an orthodox Jewish rabbi who later married the man who taught her how to live.
Dejlig roman om en ung piges opvækst i det ekstremt fattige immigrantkvarter i Broķlyn. Hendes kærlige familie og hendes ukuelighed. En sand klassiker. ( )
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There's a tree that grows in Brooklyn. Some people call it the Tree of Heaven. No matter where its seed falls, it makes a tree which struggles to reach the sky. It grows in boarded-up lots and out of neglected rubbish heaps. It grows up out of cellar gratings. It is the only tree that grows out of cement. It grows lushly. . .survives without sun, water, and seemingly without earth. It would be considered beautiful except that there are too many of it.
Tilegnelse
Første ord
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Serene was a word you could put to Brooklyn, New York.
Citater
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Francie came away from her first chemistry lecture in a glow. In one hour she had found out that everything was made up of atoms which were in continual motion. She grasped the idea that nothing was ever lost or destroyed. Even if something was burned up or left to rot away, it did not disappear from the face of the earth; it changed into something else—gases, liquids, and powders. Everything, decided Francie after that first lecture, was vibrant with life and there was no death in chemistry. She was puzzled as to why learned people didn’t adopt chemistry as a religion.
Dear God, let me be something every minute of every hour of my life. Let me be gay; let me be sad. Let me be cold; let me be warm. Let me be hungry...have too much to eat. Let me be ragged or well-dressed. Let me be sincere- be deceitful. Let me be truthful; let me be a liar. Let me be honorable and let me sin. Only let me be something every blessed minute. And when I sleep, let me dream all the time so that not one little piece of living is ever lost.
Sidste ord
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Google Books — Indlæser...
(4.31)
A Tree Grows in Brooklyn Group Read (August 1, 2012)
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En sand klassiker. (