{"product_id":"the-talking-horse-and-the-sad-girl-and-the-village-under-the-sea-isbn-9780307275691","title":"The Talking Horse and the Sad Girl and the Village Under the Sea","description":"\u003cb\u003eFrom the phenomenally bestselling author of \u003ci\u003eThe Curious Incident of the Dog in the  Night-time\u003c\/i\u003e comes Mark Haddon’s first collection of poems.\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003eThe Talking Horse and the Sad Girl and the Village Under the Sea\u003c\/i\u003e reveals a  poet of great versatility and formal talent. All the gifts so admired in Haddon’s  prose are in strong evidence here—the humanity, the dark humour, and the uncanny  ventriloquism—but Haddon is also a writer of considerable seriousness, lyric power,  and surreal invention. This book will consolidate his reputation as one of the most  imaginative writers in contemporary literature.Praise for \u003ci\u003eThe Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Gloriously eccentric and wonderfully intelligent.” \u003cbr\u003e–\u003ci\u003eThe Boston Globe\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Moving. . . . Think of \u003ci\u003eThe Sound and the Fury\u003c\/i\u003e crossed with \u003ci\u003eThe Catcher in the Rye\u003c\/i\u003e and one of Oliver Sacks’s real-life stories.” \u003cbr\u003e–Michiko Kakutani, \u003ci\u003eThe New York Times\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“This is an amazing novel. An amazing book.” \u003cbr\u003e–\u003ci\u003eThe Dallas Morning News\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003ePraise for Mark Haddon\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Mark Haddon is both clever and observant, and the effect is vastly affecting.” \u003cbr\u003e–\u003ci\u003eThe Washington Post Book World\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“A wise and bleakly funny writer with rare gifts of empathy.” \u003cbr\u003e–Ian McEwan, author of \u003ci\u003eAtonement\u003c\/i\u003e and \u003ci\u003eSaturday\u003c\/i\u003eMark Haddon is a writer and illustrator of numerous award-winning children’s books and television screen-plays. He is the author of the bestselling novel, The \u003ci\u003eCurious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time,\u003c\/i\u003e which was the Whitbread Book of the Year in 2004. He teaches creative writing for the Arvon Foundation and lives in Oxford, England.\u003cb\u003eGo, Litel Bok\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Ladies and Gentlemen, members of the jury.\u003cbr\u003e    Those of my trade, we are like the badger or the mole.\u003cbr\u003e    We work alone in darkness, guided by tiny\u003cbr\u003e    candles which we do not share, sweating to give birth\u003cbr\u003e    to replacement planets where things happen which don't.\u003cbr\u003e    And sometimes the hard jigsaw becomes a picture\u003cbr\u003e    and not a car accident. More rarely we place\u003cbr\u003e    our fingers adroitly on the frets or keyboard\u003cbr\u003e    and multitudes plummet through the small white trapdoor\u003cbr\u003e    which bears our hieroglyphs. Then we are taken up\u003cbr\u003e    into the blaze and shout of the conurbations\u003cbr\u003e    to make words in the air and strike the strange pose\u003cbr\u003e    from the clothing catalogue. But sometimes we see\u003cbr\u003e    a swallow in wintertime. And the talking horse\u003cbr\u003e    and the sad girl and the village under the sea\u003cbr\u003e    descend like stars into a land of long evenings\u003cbr\u003e    and radically different vegetables\u003cbr\u003e    and a flex is run from our hearts into the hearts\u003cbr\u003e    of those who do not know the meaning of the words\u003cbr\u003e    cardigan or sleet. And there is no finer pudding.\u003cbr\u003e    Now I am like that cow in the nursery rhyme.\u003cbr\u003e    The fire I have felt beneath your shirts. These cloisters.\u003cbr\u003e    Red mullet with honey. This surprisingly large\u003cbr\u003e    slab of Perspex. Your hands are on me. But this man\u003cbr\u003e    is another man. The clock chimes, my pumpkin waits\u003cbr\u003e    and the frog drums his gloved fingers on the dashboard.\u003cbr\u003e    May the god whose thoughts are like a tent of white light\u003cbr\u003e    above the laundry and the pigeons of this town\u003cbr\u003e    walk always by your side. My burrow calls. Good night.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e     \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e    A Rough Guide\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Be polite at the reception desk.\u003cbr\u003e    Not all the knives are in the museum.\u003cbr\u003e    The waitresses know that a nice boy\u003cbr\u003e    is formed in the same way as a deckchair.\u003cbr\u003e    Pay for the beer and send flowers.\u003cbr\u003e    Introduce yourself as Richard.\u003cbr\u003e    Do not refer to what somebody did\u003cbr\u003e    at a particular time in the past.\u003cbr\u003e    Remember, every Friday we used to go\u003cbr\u003e    for a walk. I walked. You walked.\u003cbr\u003e    Everything in the past is irregular.\u003cbr\u003e    This steak is very good. Sit down.\u003cbr\u003e    There is no wine, but there is ice cream.\u003cbr\u003e    Eat slowly. I have many matches.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e     \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e    After a Beheading\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    When you have jumped the logging trains\u003cbr\u003e    across the Hendersons and eaten\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    stray dog roasted on a brazier,\u003cbr\u003e    when you think that you can feel\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    the rasp of a freshly laundered pillow\u003cbr\u003e    on your face and hear\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    the little song of halyards\u003cbr\u003e    below your window at \"The Limes\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    but come round to the smell of petrol\u003cbr\u003e    and the sherry-hollowed faces\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    of your dubious companions,\u003cbr\u003e    when you want to lie down in the soiled,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    grey snow and never move again,\u003cbr\u003e    you will come to a five-gabled house\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    in the suburbs of a cutlery-making city\u003cbr\u003e    and be embraced by a bearded man\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    with the build of a former athlete\u003cbr\u003e    who smokes \"El Corazon\" cigars.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    His wife will have perfect breasts\u003cbr\u003e    and make the noise of a leopard sleeping.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Neither of them will ask you for your name.\u003cbr\u003e    You will be offered the use of a bathroom\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    where the towel-glare hurts your eyes,\u003cbr\u003e    the soap is labeled in Italian\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    and the cream suit on the warmed rail\u003cbr\u003e    fits with sinister precision.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    You will then be led into the dining room.\u003cbr\u003e    There will be beef Wellington and firm pears\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    and a jazz trio playing Monk\u003cbr\u003e    on guitar and vibes.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    There will be many fingerbowls.\u003cbr\u003e    Your host will say, \"Eat . . . Drink . . .\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    and as your hand hangs like a hawk\u003cbr\u003e    above the confusion of forks\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    you will realize that this\u003cbr\u003e    is where your journey starts.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e     \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e    Cabin Doors to Automatic\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    We take off in a lightning storm.\u003cbr\u003e    The big jets kick in and we climb\u003cbr\u003e    through blue explosions;\u003cbr\u003e    below the fuselage, moonlight\u003cbr\u003e    on the Solway Firth, the fields\u003cbr\u003e    of Cumbria, our \u003ci\u003elitel spot of erthe\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e    that with the see embracéd is.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    This is how we leave the world,\u003cbr\u003e    with the heart weeping,\u003cbr\u003e    and the hope that distance\u003cbr\u003e    brings the solving wonder\u003cbr\u003e    of one last clear view\u003cbr\u003e    before that long sleep\u003cbr\u003e    above the weather's changes.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e     \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e    Green\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Horace \u003ci\u003eOdes 1:4\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Spring and warm winds unlock the fist of winter.\u003cbr\u003e    Winches haul dry hulls down the beach.\u003cbr\u003e    The ploughman and his animals\u003cbr\u003e    no longer love the stable and the fire.\u003cbr\u003e    The frost no longer paints the fields white.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    The moon is overhead. Cytherean Venus\u003cbr\u003e    dances with her girls. The Graces\u003cbr\u003e    and the spirits of the trees and rivers\u003cbr\u003e    stamp the earth while flaming Vulcan\u003cbr\u003e    tours the massive thunder-forges of the Cyclops.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    It's time to decorate your oiled hair\u003cbr\u003e    with green myrtle or with flowers growing\u003cbr\u003e    from the soft earth. It's time to find a shady spot\u003cbr\u003e    and sacrifice a young goat to the woodland god.\u003cbr\u003e    Or kill a lamb if that is what he wants.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Death's sickly face appears at the doors\u003cbr\u003e    of shacks and palaces. Rich Sestius,\u003cbr\u003e    this short life makes a joke of long hopes.\u003cbr\u003e    Pluto's shadow hall, those ghosts\u003cbr\u003e    you read about in stories, and that final night\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    will soon be snapping at your heels.\u003cbr\u003e    And then you won't be throwing knuckle-bones\u003cbr\u003e    to win the job of drinking-master,\u003cbr\u003e    or ogling pretty Lycidas, who'll drive men wild\u003cbr\u003e    until he's big enough for girls.","brand":"Vintage","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46303295242469,"sku":"NP9780307275691","price":13.95,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780307275691.jpg?v=1767741780","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/es\/products\/the-talking-horse-and-the-sad-girl-and-the-village-under-the-sea-isbn-9780307275691","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}