Beatrice and Virgil: A Novel
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When Henry receives a letter from an elderly taxidermist, it poses a puzzle that he cannot resist. As he is pulled further into the world of this strange and calculating man, Henry becomes increasingly involved with the lives of a donkey and a howler monkey—named Beatrice and Virgil—and the epic journey they undertake together.
With all the spirit and originality that made Life of Pi so beloved, this brilliant new novel takes the reader on a haunting odyssey. On the way Martel asks profound questions about life and art, truth and deception, responsibility and complicity.
No. But since you mention avocados, a pear is somewhat shaped like an avocado, although the bottom of a pear is usually plumper. BEATRICE: Fascinating. VIRGIL: And a pear becomes thinner in its top half in a more pronounced way than an avocado does. Nonetheless, the two fruits are more or less similar in form. BEATRICE: I see the shape clearly. VIRGIL: But you cannot compare their skins! An avocado’s skin is as warty as a toad’s. An avocado looks like a vegetable with leprosy. The pear is.
One might say, until the day the red cloth flutters into your view and you realize it’s coming your way and you wonder, with utter disbelief, how you could have missed seeing it before, how you could have ignored it, but your contemplations are cut short because you’ve already fallen back and started wrestling with the red cloth of suffering, pulling and tearing at it. (He wrestles with the red cloth.) BEATRICE: (waking up) What are you doing? VIRGIL: (stopping instantly) Nothing. Just folding.
Tall with high branches, as if they were mindful of not getting in the way of the unbridled grass. A round pond gleamed in the centre of the park. The weather was warm and sunny and people were out in great numbers. As he wandered about the park, Henry awoke to what had just happened to him. Five years of work had been consigned to oblivion. His mind, stunned into silence, sputtered to life. I should have said this…. I should have said that…. Who the fuck was he…? How dare she…?—so the shouting.
Corridor left open, at other times standing near me but going on as if I weren’t there. I lost consciousness a number of times. They insulted me repeatedly, though I wouldn’t say they were actually angry or worked up. They were just doing their job. When they got tired, they worked in silence. It ended in the late afternoon, around five o’clock, I suppose, after a day’s work was done. Home beckoned. They unstrapped me from the harness and threw me into a small cell. After two days and nights of.
To where you used to work. The family had turned you out and didn’t know where you were, but a servant came out as I was leaving and told me that she’d heard from someone who’d heard from someone that you had been taken to such-and-such police station. I went to the station, made cautious inquiries, and from there fanned out, looking under bridges, down alleys, behind bushes, until I came upon you. BEATRICE: The first place where you touched me was my neck. VIRGIL: Yes, I remember. BEATRICE:.