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20th Century Ghosts Tapa blanda – 16 septiembre 2008
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Joe Hill’s award-winning story collection, featuring “The Black Phone,” soon to be a major motion picture from Universal Pictures and Blumhouse Productions
Imogene is young, beautiful . . . and dead, waiting in the Rosebud Theater one afternoon in 1945. . . .
Francis was human once, but now he's an eight-foot-tall locust, and everyone in Calliphora will tremble when they hear him sing. . . .
John is locked in a basement stained with the blood of half a dozen murdered children, and an antique telephone, long since disconnected, rings at night with calls from the dead. . . .
Nolan knows but can never tell what really happened in the summer of '77, when his idiot savant younger brother built a vast cardboard fort with secret doors leading into other worlds. . . .
The past isn't dead. It isn't even past. . . .
The first collection from #1 New York Times bestselling author Joe Hill, 20th Century Ghosts is an inventive and chilling compendium that established this award-winning, critically acclaimed author as “a major player in 21st-century fantastic fiction” (Washington Post).
- Longitud de impresión336 páginas
- IdiomaInglés
- Fecha de publicación16 septiembre 2008
- Dimensiones13.49 x 1.93 x 20.32 cm
- ISBN-100061147982
- ISBN-13978-0061147982
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Descripción del producto
Críticas
"Hill's best stories veer away from the well-trodden creep shows and back alleys of genre writing into more dangerous territory: suburban basements, ball fields and schoolyards." -- Washington Post
"[An] inventive collection . . . brave and astute." -- New York Times Book Review
"Fully developed characters with complex emotional lives enhance the 14 stories in Joe Hill's extraordinary collection, 20th Century Ghosts. There's not a false note or disappointing effort in this volume." -- Publishers Weekly (starred review)
"The collection of short stories ranges from creepy to sweet, with an impressive arsenal of tactics to attack your psyche." -- Boston Globe
"20th Century Ghosts is Hill's first collection of short stories and displays consummate skill in a variety of genres . . . Amusing, moving, horrifying--Ghosts runs the full spectrum." -- USA Today
"Alternately sad, scary, strange and at times even sweet, these tales will haunt you long after you've read them." -- Parade
"[A] lovely, earnest collection of short fiction." -- Village Voice
"[O]ne of the best [horror] collections of the year. Hill is a relative newcomer who consistently creates creepy, very disturbing stories." -- Locus
"Each tale is unique, and the collection proves that Hill's talent is not limited to horror, but extends well into the mainstream." -- Denver Rocky Mountain News
"[A] new take on the fantasy-horror genre...Highly recommended." -- The Sun Herald (Sydney, Australia)
"The selections range from the mundane to the surreal, with a strong emphasis on the kind of horror tale perfected by Ray Bradbury, Peter Straub and Stephen King." -- San Francisco Chronicle
"This solid, inventive, scary collection of stories reveals a writer who has thought hard about the problematics of horror." -- New York Times on 20TH CENTURY GHOSTS
"Each of these chilling tales arrests you from the opening sentence and leads you -- trustingly, thanks to the simple mastery of the story-teller -- into a place of gulping fear." -- Daily Mail (London) on 20TH CENTURY GHOSTS
"Subtle and disturbing in equal measure." -- Coventry Telegraph on 20TH CENTURY GHOSTS
"Irresistible stories." -- Evening Herald (Ireland)
Contraportada
Imogene is young, beautiful . . . and dead, waiting in the Rosebud Theater one afternoon in 1945. . . .
Francis was human once, but now he's an eight-foot-tall locust, and everyone in Calliphora will tremble when they hear him sing. . . .
John is locked in a basement stained with the blood of half a dozen murdered children, and an antique telephone, long since disconnected, rings at night with calls from the dead. . . .
Nolan knows but can never tell what really happened in the summer of '77, when his idiot savant younger brother built a vast cardboard fort with secret doors leading into other worlds. . . .
The past isn't dead. It isn't even past. . . .
Biografía del autor
Joe Hill is the #1 New York Times bestselling author of the novels The Fireman, NOS4A2, Horns, and Heart-Shaped Box; Strange Weather, a collection of novellas; and the acclaimed story collections Full Throttle and 20th Century Ghosts. He is also the Eisner Award-winning writer of a seven-volume comic book series, Locke & Key. Much of his work has been adapted for film and TV, including NOS4A2 (AMC), Locke & Key (Netflix), In the Tall Grass (Netflix), and The Black Phone (Blumhouse).
Extracto. © Reimpreso con autorización. Reservados todos los derechos.
20th Century Ghosts
By Joe HillHarperCollins Publishers, Inc.
Copyright © 2008 Joe HillAll right reserved.
ISBN: 9780061147982
Chapter One
Best New Horror
A month before his deadline, Eddie Carroll ripped open a manila envelope, and a magazine called The True North Literary Review slipped out into his hands. Carroll was used to getting magazines in the mail, although most of them had titles like Cemetery Dance and specialized in horror fiction. People sent him their books, too. Piles of them cluttered his Brookline townhouse, a heap on the couch in his office, a stack by the coffee maker. Books of horror stories, all of them.
No one had time to read them all, although once—when he was in his early thirties and just starting out as the editor of America's Best New Horror—he had made a conscientious effort to try. Carroll had guided sixteen volumes of Best New Horror to press, had been working on the series for over a third of his life now. It added up to thousands of hours of reading and proofing and letter-writing, thousands of hours he could never have back.
He had come to hate the magazines especially. So many of them used the cheapest ink, and he had learned to loathe the way it came off on his fingers, the harsh stink of it.
He didn't finish most of the stories he started anymore, couldn't bear to. He felt weak at the thought of reading another story about vampires having sex with other vampires. He tried to struggle through Lovecraft pastiches, but at the first painfully serious reference to the Elder Gods, he felt some important part of him going numb inside, the way a foot or a hand will go to sleep when the circulation is cut off. He feared the part of him being numbed was his soul.
At some point following his divorce, his duties as the editor of Best New Horror had become a tiresome and joyless chore. He thought sometimes, hopefully almost, of stepping down, but he never indulged the idea for long. It was twelve thousand dollars a year in the bank, the cornerstone of an income patched together from other anthologies, his speaking engagements and his classes. Without that twelve grand, his personal worst-case scenario would become inevitable: he would have to find an actual job.
The True North Literary Review was unfamiliar to him, a literary journal with a cover of rough-grained paper, an ink print on it of leaning pines. A stamp on the back reported that it was a publication of Katahdin University in upstate New York. When he flipped it open, two stapled pages fell out, a letter from the editor, an English professor named Harold Noonan.
The winter before, Noonan had been approached by a part-time man with the university grounds crew, a Peter Kilrue. He had heard that Noonan had been named the editor of True North and was taking open submissions, and asked him to look at a short story. Noonan promised he would, more to be polite than anything else. But when he finally read the manuscript, "Buttonboy: A Love Story," he was taken aback by both the supple force of its prose and the appalling nature of its subject matter. Noonan was new in the job, replacing the just-retired editor of twenty years, Frank McDane, and wanted to take the journal in a new direction, to publish fiction that would "rattle a few cages."
"In that I was perhaps too successful," Noonan wrote. Shortly after "Buttonboy" appeared in print, the head of the English department held a private meeting with Noonan to verbally assail him for using True North as a showcase for "juvenile literary practical jokes." Nearly fifty people cancelled their subscriptions—no laughing matter for a journal with a circulation of just a thousand copies—and the alumna who provided most of True North's funding withdrew her financial support in outrage. Noonan himself was removed as editor, and Frank McDane agreed to oversee the magazine from retirement, in response to the popular outcry for his return.
Noonan's letter finished:
I remain of the opinion that (whatever its flaws), "Buttonboy" is a remarkable, if genuinely distressing, work of fiction, and I hope you'll give it your time. I admit I would find it personally vindicating if you decided to include it in your next anthology of the year's best horror fiction.
I would tell you to enjoy, but I'm not sure that's the word.
Best,
Harold Noonan
Eddie Carroll had just come in from outside, and read Noonan's letter standing in the mudroom. He flipped to the beginning of the story. He stood reading for almost five minutes before noticing he was uncomfortably warm. He tossed his jacket at a hook and wandered into the kitchen.
He sat for a while on the stairs to the second floor, turning through the pages. Then he was stretched on the couch in his office, head on a pile of books, reading in a slant of late October light, with no memory of how he had got there.
He rushed through to the ending, then sat up, in the grip of a strange, bounding exuberance. He thought it was possibly the rudest, most awful thing he had ever read, and in his case that was saying something. He had waded through the rude and awful for most of his professional life, and in those fly-blown and diseased literary swamps had discovered flowers of unspeakable beauty, of which he was sure this was one. It was cruel and perverse and he had to have it. He turned to the beginning and started reading again.
It was about a girl named Cate—an introspective seventeen-year-old at the story's beginning—who one day is pulled into a car by a giant with jaundiced eyeballs and teeth in tin braces. He ties her hands behind her back and shoves her onto the backseat floor of his station wagon . . . where she discovers a boy about her age, whom she at first takes for dead and who has suffered an unspeakable disfiguration. His eyes are hidden behind a pair of round, yellow, smiley-face buttons. They've been pinned right through his eyelids—which have also been stitched shut with steel wire—and the eyeballs beneath.
Continues...
Excerpted from 20th Century Ghostsby Joe Hill Copyright © 2008 by Joe Hill. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Detalles del producto
- Editorial : Harper Collins Publ. USA; Reprint edición (16 septiembre 2008)
- Idioma : Inglés
- Tapa blanda : 336 páginas
- ISBN-10 : 0061147982
- ISBN-13 : 978-0061147982
- Peso del producto : 254 g
- Dimensiones : 13.49 x 1.93 x 20.32 cm
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This is a collection of short stories, with no corollation or connection to each other. Some stories are short, some are very short, and some are a little longer. The confusing title of 20th Century Ghosts may be a little confusing as not all the short stories are traditional ghost stories. However, they are still beautifully written short horror stories.
This is my first dive into the work of Joe Hill, and although some of the earlier short stories in this book didn't quite grip me straight away, the writing style was solid and definitely set a dark, traditional/modern crossover style that is continued throughout the collection of stories. I really enjoyed Joe's writing and will definitely be reading more of his work.
Special mention to some of the amazing stories in this book, such as "The Black Phone," which is the only downfall for me personally, is that it could have been longer.
"Voluntary Committal" is the final and longest story in the collection, which was just pure excellence, and I loved it.
"Abraham's Boys" is a new twist or sequel to a classic tale.
"My Father's Mask" could easily be the next new creapy horror film, which was weird and wonderful.
"The Last Breath" is one of the most intriguing short stories that I have read, but I craved to be longer!
Overall, I really enjoyed this book and Joe Hill's writing style and format for a story, yes I was upset that some of the stories were shorter than I wanted, but also sometimes that is the point of a short story. To get you to have questions in your head and screaming for more.
Fan of well written short horror? Read this book!
Best New Horror starts the collection off with a bang. A disgruntled, apathetic editor of a horror journal seeks out the secretive author of the most shocking story he has ever read (which reminds me a bit of Sutter Cane in the film In the Mouth of Madness). This story gives nods to Twilight Zone or Alfred Hitchcock Presents, with an ending that is satisfyingly haunting.
Next is the titular story, 20th Century Ghosts, which was so unexpectedly beautiful that it nearly brought me to tears. It has hints of creepiness, but is really more a very sweet—and unique—love story, with an underlying thread of appreciation for classic cinema.
Pop Art: also lovely. It's about an inflatable boy, and it seems only Hill could write a story like that and play it straight. There is zero tongue-in-cheek or cuteness, and somehow, it works.
You Will Hear the Locust Sing pays direct homage to Kafka's The Metamorphosis (boy wakes up as a bug), but it is dark and sad and completely different. There are some gross-out moments, and it is far from a happy tale, but ultimately leaves you with a sense of wonder and stillness.
Better Than Home is a sweet, straight-forward story of a father and son with brokenness at its edges, and beauty at its center.
The Black Phone involves the sort of child-in-turmoil situation that Hill would later expand upon in NOS4A2. It's one of those where you keep going, 'oh god, please don't let such and such happen to the poor kid.' Some of it does, some of it doesn't. It has some chilling elements of the fantastic, and by the end, deserving parties get what's coming to them.
I had previously read The Cape in graphic novel form, though it differs quite a bit from this version. An interesting exploration of a flawed 'hero' becoming a villain because of troubling circumstances.
Last Breath, again, would have been right at home as a Twilight Zone script. Quick, creepy, original, great.
Dead-wood is one page, and in few words, presents some big ideas.
My Father's Mask is definitely the 'trippiest' of the bunch; both creepy and extremely bizarre. It is a tale that doesn't reveal all of its cards by the end, but the answers are there—I think—between the lines. Has a hint of Alice in Wonderland to it.
Voluntary Committal is the longest piece, close to a novella, and is parked appropriately at the end of the collection, because it's the best story in here. At the heart, it is a story of two brothers with a complicated relationship—one of whom has a mental disability that lends to some incredible, uncertain powers—but is wrapped in a cloudy blanket of imagination. I say cloudy because this story had wonderful, fascinating moments of childhood wonder, but also haunting, unhappy, otherworldly terror. The disabled brother has an almost savant-like knack for building breathtaking structures out of household items, such as Dixie cups, egg cartons, Legos, and ultimately cardboard boxes. Sometimes his structures create doors to other places, not all of them friendly.
Those were the stories that stuck out most for me, although all of them were good. I couldn't help but notice how many of these stories had children as their main characters, and how much of this collection deals with the imagination of youth and young people experiencing wonderful (or terrifying) things. Hill seems to have an appreciation for the things that kids go through, impossible or ordinary, and an aptitude to write from their perspective. His characters are real, and often broken, and you feel sympathy for many of them. That's what makes the scary parts all the more scary, because you've grown to care about the people to whom the bad stuff is happening.
I knew I was in for a treat with 20th Century Ghosts, but what I got was a sometimes brilliant, frequently beautiful, horrifying collection of stories; I gobbled them down in rapid succession. Hill is a talented and diverse author, able to be deep and thoughtful, or campy and gross. He can write sweet things or horribly twisted ones, and all of it works in its right place. This is the first truly 5-star book I've read in 2014.
Even the stories in this collection that don't aim to deliver more than a plot twist and a good scare are polished gems. And some pieces qualify as priceless masterpieces.
"Best New Horror" asks the question, who's weirder: horror writers, horror readers, or the horror editors who bring the two together? Hill employs nice story-within-a-story framing techniques is this modern take on the classic EC-style horror tale.
"20th Century Ghosts" is the only traditional ghost story in this collection. It's an effective ode to old movie houses and the people who love -- and haunt -- them.
"Better Than Home" and "Voluntary Committal" both deal with living with -- and loving -- people with mental disabilities. Hill demonstrates the challenges and mysteries of such relationships beautifully in this passage from "Voluntary Committal."
"At times, my brother made me think of one of those tapered, horned conch shells, with a glossy pink interior curving away and out of sight into some tightly wound inner mystery."
Great writers make it look easy, and Hill is no exception. Saying he has "a way with words," is a massive understatement. Saying, "Hill has his way with words" is more accurate. He bends them to his will, and makes them do his bidding in tales like "The Cape" and "Last Breath." These tales flow so naturally, it's easy to overlook the skill required to create them.
The best writing crafts words to convey great ideas. This is demonstrated in "Pop Art," another tale about loving a disabled person. In this case, the affliction is, well ... inflatibility.
The narrator's childhood friend is an blow-up boy named Art. ("Pop Art" ... because he's, like, a balloon. Get it?) It's an absurd joke, (see SpongeBob SquarePants' "Bubble Buddy" episode for another brilliant take on the same concept) except Hill renders it so poignantly, it becomes a masterful mediation on life, death, and life after death.
Art dreams of being an astronaut, traveling to worlds beyond this one, then realizes everyone gets the chance to live this dream with death's ultimate release.
"You get an astronaut's life whether you want it or not. Leave it all behind for a world you know nothing about. That's just the deal."
Art possesses a Zen-like serenity that eludes the narrator, a boy who is all too familiar with the world's harsh cruelties. When Art tells him an angry dog named "Happy" would be more pleasant if it wasn't penned up, the narrator disagrees.
"It is my belief that, as a rule, creatures of Happy's ilk -- I am thinking here of canines and men both -- more often run free than live caged, and it is in fact a world of mud and feces they desire, a world with no Art in it, or anyone like him, a place where there is no talk of books or God or the worlds beyond this world, a place where the only communication is the hysterical barking of starving and hate-filled dogs."
Hill hits it on the head, and out of the park with this description of life in a world of cruel, artless dunderheads.
If pressed to find a flaw in 20th Century Ghosts, my only critique would be too many of the stories use a child protagonist, which is a kind of writer's crutch. Casting a kid as a hero can be a cheap literary trick because:
It allows you to dumb down your story, seeing things through "the eyes if a child."
It gives your characters a reason to do stupid things, because, "they're just kids!"
It hijacks the reader's own childhood memories, imbuing the kid characters with an intimacy and nostalgia the writer didn't earn.
Admittedly, this is more of a personal writing peeve than a criticism. Hill writes amazing stories. His ideas are fresh, and his characters are honest, engaging, and human no matter what their age.
Maybe it's uncool to say, but Joe Hill has big shoes to fill -- his father is Stephen King, after all. One of the reasons he writes under the name Joe Hill is because doesn't want his work compared to his Dad's, and to dispel any belief he was given a publishing contract because of his family heritage.
Joe Hill needn't worry. He might be following in his old man's footsteps, but he's wearing snowshoes, and leaving pretty impressive tracks of his own.