{"product_id":"surrender-isbn-9780525521044","title":"Surrender","description":"\u003cb\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003eNEW YORK TIMES \u003c\/i\u003eBEST SELLER \u003c\/b\u003e• Bono—artist, activist, and the lead singer of Irish rock band U2—has written a memoir: honest and irreverent, intimate and profound, \u003ci\u003eSurrender \u003c\/i\u003eis the story of the remarkable life he’s lived, the challenges he’s faced, and the friends and family who have shaped and sustained him. \u003cb\u003e• \u003c\/b\u003eA \u003ci\u003eVOGUE \u003c\/i\u003eBEST BOOK OF THE YEAR\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e“A brilliant, very funny, very revealing autobiography-through-music. Maybe the best book ever written about being a rockstar.” \u003ci\u003e—\u003c\/i\u003eCaitlin Moran, award-winning journalist\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e“When I started to write this book, I was hoping to draw in detail what I’d previously only sketched in songs. The people, places, and possibilities in my life. Surrender is a word freighted with meaning for me. Growing up in Ireland in the seventies with my fists up (musically speaking), it was not a natural concept. A word I only circled until I gathered my thoughts for the book. I am still grappling with this most humbling of commands. In the band, in my marriage, in my faith, in my life as an activist. \u003ci\u003eSurrender\u003c\/i\u003e is the story of one pilgrim’s lack of progress ... With a fair amount of fun along the way.” —Bono\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e As one of the music world’s most iconic artists and the cofounder of the organizations ONE and (RED), Bono’s career has been written about extensively. But in \u003ci\u003eSurrender\u003c\/i\u003e, it’s Bono who picks up the pen, writing for the first time about his remarkable life and those he has shared it with. In his unique voice, Bono takes us from his early days growing up in Dublin, including the sudden loss of his mother when he was fourteen, to U2’s unlikely journey to become one of the world’s most influential rock bands, to his more than twenty years of activism dedicated to the fight against AIDS and extreme poverty. Writing with candor, self-reflection, and humor, Bono opens the aperture on his life—and the family, friends, and faith that have sustained, challenged, and shaped him.\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eSurrender\u003c\/i\u003e’s subtitle, \u003ci\u003e40 Songs, One Story,\u003c\/i\u003e is a nod to the book’s forty chapters, which are each named after a U2 song. Bono has also created forty original drawings for \u003ci\u003eSurrender,\u003c\/i\u003e which appear throughout the book.\u003cb\u003eA \u003ci\u003eVOGUE \u003c\/i\u003eBEST BOOK OF THE YEAR\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Honest and direct . . . [\u003ci\u003eSurrender\u003c\/i\u003e] is defined largely by humility. This is an introspective story written by a man whose spirit is never far removed from the sadness and grief of his childhood; the hunger, literal and figurative, of a teen wannabe rocker; and the gratitude of one who worked his butt off and made it to the top . . . This is the rare rock star memoir written by a rock star who, you get the impression, could have been a writer . . . Bono has a gift for making even the unattainable seem relatable . . . He’s humble, even self-effacing. He might be fun to have a beer with. He is very much of this Earth, even if on occasion he might seem to float above the water.” —\u003ci\u003e\u003cb\u003eThe L.A. Times \u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003e \u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Compelling . . . \u003ci\u003eSurrender \u003c\/i\u003e is more introspective than salacious or score-settling, and proof that the tunesmith who wrote it also speaks fluent prose.” —\u003ci\u003e\u003cb\u003eThe Washington Post\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“\u003ci\u003eSurrender\u003c\/i\u003e soars whenever the spotlight comes on. Bono is never more powerful, on the page or the stage, than when he strives for the transcendence that only music can offer . . . [Bono] is open and honest, with language that can be witty and distinctive, addressing his competitive relationship with his father or growing up against the backdrop of Ireland’s political violence.” —\u003cb\u003eThe New York Times\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Lovely and thoughtfully written . . . An earthy, self-deprecating, often funny appraisal of the sometimes contradictory paths Bono has traveled.”\u003cb\u003e —\u003ci\u003eVulture\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“This is Bono at his best: thoughtful, reflective, revealing a wisdom that his rock-star persona covers up . . . At the root of it all you don't doubt his decency or integrity.”\u003cb\u003e ―\u003ci\u003eThe Times\u003c\/i\u003e (UK)\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e \u003cbr\u003e “A rattling good yarn . . . characteristically expansive, but it whizzes by  . . . Bono has storytelling verve and a genuine desire for self-examination and is enthusiastic about praising others, often at his own expense . . . [A] generous, energetic book.” \u003cb\u003e―\u003ci\u003eThe Guardian\u003c\/i\u003e (UK)\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Bono's memoir bares his soul . . . Has any rock superstar written a more revealing biography? He deftly balances the comical and profound and packs anecdotes with cameos by the rich and famous, from Frank Sinatra to Pope John Paul II.” \u003cb\u003e―\u003ci\u003eDaily Telegraph\u003c\/i\u003e (UK)\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Beautifully evoked, a mixture of Joycean exuberance and Chandleresque irony . . . most revealing are the intimate personal experiences that shaped him and his chaotic creative process. Punctuating it all is the music. Each chapter uses a U2 song to pull us down memory lane.” \u003cb\u003e―\u003ci\u003eThe Sunday Times\u003c\/i\u003e (UK)\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e \u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Bono's honesty will win over his harshest critics . . . the U2 frontman's memoir is a triumph . . . Honest, witty, informative and beautifully written. \u003ci\u003eSurrender\u003c\/i\u003e will surely join the ranks of the great rock memoirs.”\u003cb\u003e \u003ci\u003e―Irish Independent \u003c\/i\u003e (UK)\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Sometimes confessional, many times humorous, and always clever and entertaining, Bono has delivered a fascinating autobiography of a major force in popular music and world affairs for all readers.”\u003cb\u003e —\u003ci\u003eLibrary Journal \u003c\/i\u003e[starred review]\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Bono's first book will generate enormous interest . . . That the singer-songwriter writes well for the page should not come as a surprise, but his drawings might. Fans of Bono and U2 will adore this rich and expansive memoir, while music lovers of all persuasions will find much to enjoy here, too.” —\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003eBooklist \u003c\/i\u003e[starred review]\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“A powerful and candid debut memoir . . . With remarkable frankness, he details what makes a great song; domestic life with his wife, Ali, and their four children; how the band almost fell apart during the 1990 recording of \u003ci\u003eAchtung Baby\u003c\/i\u003e; why he always wears glasses; and his experience of the conflict between unionists and nationalists in Northern Ireland . . . Self-aware and poignantly reflective, this is a must-read.” \u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003ePublishers Weekly \u003c\/i\u003e[starred review]\u003c\/b\u003eThe lead singer of U2, Bono was born Paul David Hewson in Dublin. He met The Edge, Larry Mullen Jr., and Adam Clayton at school, and in 1978, U2 was formed. The band released their first album, \u003ci\u003eBoy,\u003c\/i\u003e on Island Records in 1980 and to date have released a total of fourteen studio albums that have sold 157 million copies worldwide. Heralded by \u003ci\u003eRolling Stone\u003c\/i\u003e as “a live act simply without peer,” the band’s record-breaking 360° Tour (2009–2011) remains the highest-grossing concert band tour of all time. U2 have won numerous awards, including twenty-two Grammys, more than any other duo or group, as well as an Academy Award nomination and the Amnesty International Ambassador of Conscience Award. In 2005, U2 was inducted into the Rock \u0026amp; Roll Hall of Fame.\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003eAlongside his role in U2, Bono is a ground-breaking activist. A leader in Jubilee 2000’s Drop the Debt campaign, he next took on the fight against HIV\/AIDS and extreme poverty, co-founding sister organizations ONE and (RED). ONE is a movement of millions of people dedicated to the fight against extreme poverty and preventable disease. With ONE, Bono has lobbied heads of state and legislatures all around the world, helping to ensure the passage of programs, such as the U.S. PEPFAR AIDS program, that have helped to save tens of millions of lives over the past twenty years. (RED)—which partners with companies to raise public awareness about, and corporate contributions for, the AIDS crisis—has to date generated more than $700 million for the Global Fund to treat and prevent AIDS in Africa. Since 2020, ONE and (RED) have also been fighting COVID-19 and its impact on the developing world. \u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003eIn 2016, Bono co-founded the Rise Fund, a global impact fund investing in entrepreneurial companies driving positive social and environmental change in alignment with the UN’s Sustainable Development Goals.\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003eBono has received a number of awards for his music and activism, including the Freedom of the City of Dublin (with U2), Chile’s Pablo Neruda Medal of Honor, the Légion d’honneur from the French government, an honorary British knighthood, the Fulbright Prize for International Understanding, and \u003ci\u003eTIME\u003c\/i\u003e magazine’s Person of the Year (along with Bill and Melinda Gates). He lives in Dublin with his wife Ali Hewson.1\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eLights of  Home\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eI shouldn’t be here ’cause I should be dead\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eI can see the lights in front of me\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eI believe my best days are ahead\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eI can see the lights in front of me.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI  was  born  with  an  eccentric  heart.  In  one  of  the  chambers  of  my heart, where most people have three doors, I have two. Two swinging  doors,  which  at  Christmas  2016  were  coming  off  their  hinges. The aorta is your main artery, your lifeline, carrying the blood oxygenated  by  your  lungs,  and  becoming  your  life.  But  we  have  discovered  that  my  aorta  has  been  stressed  over  time  and  developed a blister. A blister that’s about to burst, which would put me in the next life faster than I can make an emergency call. Faster than I can say goodbye to this life.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSo, here I am. Mount Sinai Hospital. New York City.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eLooking down on myself from above with the arc lights reflecting  on  the  stainless  steel.  I’m  thinking  the  light  is  harder  than  the steel counter I’m lying on. My body feels separate from me. It is soft flesh and hard bone.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIt’s not a dream or vision, but it feels as if I’m being sawn in half by a magician. This eccentric heart has been frozen.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSome remodeling needs to take place apart from all this hot blood swirling around and making a mess, which blood tends to do when it’s not keeping you alive.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBlood and air.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBlood and guts.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBlood and brains are what’s required right now, if I’m to continue to sing my life and live it. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMy blood.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe brains and the hands of the magician who is standing over me  and  can  turn  a  really  bad  day  into  a  really  good  one  with  the right strategy and execution.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNerves of steel and blades of steel.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNow  this  man  is  climbing  up  and  onto  my  chest,  wielding  his blade with the combined forces of science and butchery. The forces required  to  break  and  enter  someone’s  heart.  The  magic  that  is medicine.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI know it’s not going to feel like a good day when I wake up after these eight hours of surgery, but I also know that waking up is better than the alternative.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eEven if I can’t breathe and feel as if I am suffocating. Even if I’m desperately drawing for air and can’t find any.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eEven if I can’t breathe and feel as if I am suffocating. Even if I’m desperately drawing for air and can’t find any.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eEven if I’m hallucinating, ’cause I’m seeing visions now and it’s all getting a little William Blake.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI’m so cold. I need to be beside you, I need your warmth, I need your loveliness. I’m dressed for winter. I have big boots on in bed, but I’m freezing to death.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI am dreaming.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI am in a scene from some movie where the life is draining out of the actor in the lead role. In the last moments of his life he is vexed and questioning his great love.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Why are you going? Don’t leave me!”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“I’m right here,” his lover reminds him. “I haven’t moved.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“What? It’s not you leaving? Am I the one walking away? Why am I walking away? I don’t want to leave you. Please, don’t let me leave.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThere are some dirty little secrets about success that I’m just waking up to. And from.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSuccess as an outworking of dysfunction, an excuse for obsessive compulsive tendencies.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSuccess  as  a  reward  for  really,  really  hard  work,  which  may  be obscuring some kind of neurosis.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSuccess should come with a health warning—for the workaholic and for those around them.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSuccess  may  be  propelled  by  some  unfair  advantage  or  circumstance. If not privilege, then a gift, a talent, or some other form of inherited wealth.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut hard work also hides behind some of these doors.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI always thought mine was a gift for finding top-line melody not just in music but in politics, in commerce, and in the world of ideas in general.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhere  others  would  hear  harmony  or  counterpoint,  I  was  better at finding the top line in the room, the hook, the clear thought. Probably because I had to sing it or sell it.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut now I see that my advantage was something more prosaic, more base. Mine was a genetic advantage, the gift of .  .  .   air.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThat’s right.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAir.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Your man has a lot of firepower in that war chest of his.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThat’s  the  man  who  sawed  through  my  breastbone  speaking  to my wife and next of kin, Ali, after the operation.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“We  needed  extra-strong  wire  to  sew  him  up.  He’s  probably  at about 130 percent of normal lung capacity for his age.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe doesn’t use the word “freak,” but Ali tells me she has started thinking of me as the Man from Atlantis, from that 1970s sci-fi series about an amphibian detective.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDavid Adams, the man I will owe my life to, the surgeon-magician, speaks with a southern twang, and in my heightened Blakean state I  begin  to  confuse  him  with  the  crazed  villain  of The  Texas  Chain Saw Massacre. I overhear him asking Ali about tenors, who are not known to run around a stage hitting high notes.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Aren’t  tenors  supposed  to  stand  with  two  legs  apart,  firmly rooted in the ground, before even considering a top C?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Yes,”  I  say,  without  opening  my  mouth  and  before  the  drugs wear off. “A tenor has to turn his head into a sound box and his body into a bellows to make those glasses smash.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI, on the other hand, have been racing around arenas and sprinting through stadiums for thirty years singing “Pride (In the Name of Love),” the high A or B depending on the year.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIn the 1980s the stylish English songster Robert Palmer stopped Adam Clayton to plead with him. “Will you ever get your singer to sing a few steps lower. He’ll make it easier on himself, and all of us who have to listen.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAir is stamina.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAir is the confidence to take on big challenges or big opponents.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAir is not the will to conquer whatever Everest you will encounter in your life, but it is the ability to endure the climb.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAir is what you need on any north face.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAir  is  what  gives  a  small  kid  on  a  playground  the  belief  that  he won’t be bullied, or if he is, that the bully will have the air knocked out of him.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd here I am now without it, for the first time.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIn a hospital emergency room, without air.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWithout breath.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe names we give God.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAll breath.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eJehovaaaah.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAllaaaah.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eYeshuaaaah.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWithout air . . . without an air . . . without an aria.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI am terrified because for the first time ever, I reach for my faith and I can’t find it.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWithout air.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWithout a prayer.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI am a tenor singing underwater. I can feel my lungs filling up. I am drowning.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI am hallucinating. I am seeing a vision of my father in a hospital bed and me sleeping beside him, on a mattress on the floor. Beaumont Hospital, Dublin, the summer of 2001. He is deep breathing, but it’s getting shallower and shallower like the grave in his chest. He  shouts  my  name,  confusing  me  with  my  brother  or  the  other way around.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Paul. Norman. Paul.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Da.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI jump up and call a nurse.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Are you okay, Bob?” she whispers in his ear.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWe  are  in  a  world  of  percussive,  animated  whispers,  a  world  of sibilance, his tenor now become short tiny breaths, an s after every exhalation.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Yesssss sssss sss.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHis Parkinson’s disease has stolen the sonority.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“I want to go home sssssss I want to get out of here sssss.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Say it again, Da.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eLike the nurse, I am leaning over him, my ear close to his mouth.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSilence.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFollowed by another silence.","brand":"Knopf","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46303423955173,"sku":"NP9780525521044","price":34.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780525521044.jpg?v=1767737623","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/products\/surrender-isbn-9780525521044","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}