(no subject)
OH. MY. SWEET. MOOING. COWS.
I
Need
This.
And I don't mean I need this like I needed a little tiny Impala. I ACTUALLY must have this.
http://www.conlanpress.com/html/books_LU.html
THE LAST UNICORN (DELUXE EDITION)
Peter S. Beagle
Autographed by the author.
Cover art by Leo & Diane Dillon, graphic design by Ann Monn.
Roc/Barnes & Noble Deluxe Edition. Hardcover, 288 pages.
$20.00 Click here to order the deluxe hardcover edition of The Last Unicorn.
[PLEASE NOTE: There are fewer than 200 copies left from the original 15,000-copy printing, and Barnes & Noble has decided not to reprint. Order soon if you want to be guaranteed of getting this deluxe edition.]
According to the Locus Poll, The Last Unicorn is the #5 greatest fantasy novel of all time. This new deluxe hardover edition - only available through Barnes & Noble and Conlan Press - includes the definitive author-approved text of this modern classic, plus its Hugo and Nebula Award-winning coda novelette, "Two Hearts," new introductions, a 34-page interview with Peter S. Beagle, and a complete list of all his works. It's a beautiful edition that all fans of this book will want to own.
The Last Unicorn is one of the true classics of fantasy, ranking with Tolkien's The Hobbit, Le Guin's Earthsea Trilogy, and Lewis Carroll's Alice in Wonderland. Beagle writes a shimmering prose-poetry, the voice of fairy tales and childhood:
"The unicorn lived in a lilac wood, and she lived all alone. She was very old, though she did not know it, and she was no longer the careless color of sea foam but rather the color of snow falling on a moonlit night. But her eyes were still clear and unwearied, and she still moved like a shadow on the sea."
The unicorn discovers that she is the last unicorn in the world, and sets off to find the others. She meets Schmendrick the Magician - whose magic seldom works, and never as he intended - when he rescues her from Mommy Fortuna's Midnight Carnival, where only some of the mythical beasts displayed are illusions. They are joined by Molly Grue, who believes in legends despite her experiences with a Robin Hood wannabe and his unmerry men. Ahead wait King Haggard and his Red Bull, who banished unicorns from the land.
This is a book no fantasy reader should miss; Beagle argues brilliantly the need for magic in our lives and the folly of forgetting to dream.
- Amazon.com editorial review
Peter S. Beagle has both the opulence of imagination and the mastery of style....if you're interested in unicorns - and who in his or her sane senses isn't? - this is your book....comes alive and stays alive on the bright intensity of imagination.
- New York Times
Almost as if it were the last fairy tale, come out of lonely hiding in the forests of childhood, The Last Unicorn is as full of enchantment as any of the favorite tales readers may choose to recall.
- St. Louis Post-Dispatch
Beagle...has been compared not unreasonably with Lewis Carroll and J.R.R. Tolkien, but he stands squarely and triumphantly on his own feet....The book is rich, not only in comic bits but also in passages of uncommon beauty. Beagle is a true magician with words, a master of prose and a deft practitioner in verse.
- The Saturday Review
Charm, wit, and stylistic brilliance....This is a novel and a writer that should be read and reread.
- Chicago News
Mr. Beagle has...an inexhaustible bag of surprises...with overtones of Malory, Merlin, and the Arabian Nights....A writer whose work speaks so eloquently for itself needs no comparisons.
- Best Sellers
Children know perfectly well that unicorns aren't real, but they also know that books about unicorns, if they are good books, are true books.
- Ursula K. Le Guin
And I need this. It has a story in with Joe Farrell who was the main character in Folk of the Air.
STRANGE ROADS (CHAPBOOK)
Peter S. Beagle
Autographed by the author.
Cover art by Lisa Snellings-Clark.
DreamHaven Books. Chapbook. Three stories totaling 27,000 words.
$25.00 Click here to order Strange Roads.
[PLEASE NOTE: Dreamhaven has only printed 1,000 copies of this chapbook, and have not decided whether they will ever reprint it. Readers wanting a first edition should get their orders in ASAP, because the supply is limited.]
This title is the second in DreamHaven's Strange series of chapbooks, each one inspired by the art of Lisa Snellings-Clark. It includes three wonderful new stories by Peter, plus a cover and illustrations by Lisa.
The three stories are "Uncle Chaim and Aunt Rifke and the Angel," "King Pelles the Sure," and "Spook" (the latter featuring Joe Farrell, who has previously appeared in "Lila the Werewolf," "Julie's Unicorn," and the novel The Folk of the Air).
Here's how each story begins:
UNCLE CHAIM AND AUNT RIFKE AND THE ANGEL
My Uncle Chaim, who was a painter, was working in his studio - as he did on every day except Shabbos - when the blue angel showed up. I was there.
I was usually there most afternoons, dropping in on my way home from Fiorello LaGuardia Elementary School. I was what they call a "latchkey kid," these days. My parents both worked and traveled full-time, and Uncle Chaim’s studio had been my home base and my real playground since I was small. I was shy and uncomfortable with other children. Uncle Chaim didn’t have any kids, and didn’t know much about them, so he talked to me like an adult when he talked at all, which suited me perfectly. I looked through his paintings and drawings, tried some of my own, and ate Chinese food with him in silent companionship, when he remembered that we should probably eat. Sometimes I fell asleep on the cot. And when his friends - who were mostly painters like himself - dropped in to visit, I withdrew into my favorite corner and listened to their talk, and understood what I understood. Until the blue angel came.
It was very sudden: one moment I was looking through a couple of the comic books Uncle Chaim kept around for me, while he was trying to catch the highlight on the tendons under his model’s chin, and the next moment there was this angel standing before him, actually posing, with her arms spread out and her great wings taking up almost half the studio. She was not blue herself - a light beige would be closer - but she wore a blue robe that managed to look at once graceful and grand, with a white undergarment glimmering beneath. Her face, half-shadowed by a loose hood, looked disapproving.
I dropped the comic book and stared. No, I gaped, there’s a difference. Uncle Chaim said to her, “I can’t see my model. If you wouldn’t mind moving just a bit?” He was grumpy when he was working, but never rude.
“I am your model,” the angel said. “From this day forth, you will paint no one but me.”
“I don’t work on commission,” Uncle Chaim answered. “I used to, but you have to put up with too many aggravating rich people. Now I just paint what I paint, take it to the gallery. Easier on my stomach, you know?”
KING PELLES THE SURE
Once there was a king who dreamed of war. His name was Pelles.
He was a gentle and kindly monarch, who ruled over a small but wealthy and completely tranquil kingdom, beloved alike by noble and peasant, despite the fact that he had no queen, and so no heir except a brother to ensure an orderly succession. Even so, he was the envy of mightier kings, whose days were so full of putting down uprisings, fighting off one another’s invasions, and wiping out rebellious villages that they never knew a single moment of comfort or security. King Pelles - and his people, and his land - knew nothing else.
But the king dreamed of war.
SPOOK
When they came out of the consultation with the santero, Farrell said, "Seventy-five bucks. For seventy-five bucks I can get an Eskimo and make my own ice." It was his favorite Marx Brothers line, employed often.
Ben said, "Come on, we learned something. At least we know it’s bound to the house, can’t even go round the block. You and Julie can find another place easy, it’s a buyers’ market right now. I’m sure you could get the deposit back."
"Julie loves that dump." Farrell said sourly. "Says she’s finally got the north light exactly the way she wants it, and she’ll never move again, ever. And she means it, I know her." He kicked a bottle into the gutter, and then felt guilty and went back and picked it up. "“Buddies, lovers, partners - whatever the hell it is we are after twenty-five years - listen, if the Spook isn’t gone when she gets back, I’ll be sleeping at the restaurant with my clothes in a plastic bag. Live with an artist, you take your chances."
I wish it was my birthday. :( Or at least that Christmas was closer.
Maybe I should post this on myspace where all my family will see... heehee
And why don't I have a Last Unicorn icon?!?! What is wrong with me... man...
FIXED!!!
I
Need
This.
And I don't mean I need this like I needed a little tiny Impala. I ACTUALLY must have this.
http://www.conlanpress.com/html/books_LU.html
THE LAST UNICORN (DELUXE EDITION)
Peter S. Beagle
Autographed by the author.
Cover art by Leo & Diane Dillon, graphic design by Ann Monn.
Roc/Barnes & Noble Deluxe Edition. Hardcover, 288 pages.
$20.00 Click here to order the deluxe hardcover edition of The Last Unicorn.
[PLEASE NOTE: There are fewer than 200 copies left from the original 15,000-copy printing, and Barnes & Noble has decided not to reprint. Order soon if you want to be guaranteed of getting this deluxe edition.]
According to the Locus Poll, The Last Unicorn is the #5 greatest fantasy novel of all time. This new deluxe hardover edition - only available through Barnes & Noble and Conlan Press - includes the definitive author-approved text of this modern classic, plus its Hugo and Nebula Award-winning coda novelette, "Two Hearts," new introductions, a 34-page interview with Peter S. Beagle, and a complete list of all his works. It's a beautiful edition that all fans of this book will want to own.
The Last Unicorn is one of the true classics of fantasy, ranking with Tolkien's The Hobbit, Le Guin's Earthsea Trilogy, and Lewis Carroll's Alice in Wonderland. Beagle writes a shimmering prose-poetry, the voice of fairy tales and childhood:
"The unicorn lived in a lilac wood, and she lived all alone. She was very old, though she did not know it, and she was no longer the careless color of sea foam but rather the color of snow falling on a moonlit night. But her eyes were still clear and unwearied, and she still moved like a shadow on the sea."
The unicorn discovers that she is the last unicorn in the world, and sets off to find the others. She meets Schmendrick the Magician - whose magic seldom works, and never as he intended - when he rescues her from Mommy Fortuna's Midnight Carnival, where only some of the mythical beasts displayed are illusions. They are joined by Molly Grue, who believes in legends despite her experiences with a Robin Hood wannabe and his unmerry men. Ahead wait King Haggard and his Red Bull, who banished unicorns from the land.
This is a book no fantasy reader should miss; Beagle argues brilliantly the need for magic in our lives and the folly of forgetting to dream.
- Amazon.com editorial review
Peter S. Beagle has both the opulence of imagination and the mastery of style....if you're interested in unicorns - and who in his or her sane senses isn't? - this is your book....comes alive and stays alive on the bright intensity of imagination.
- New York Times
Almost as if it were the last fairy tale, come out of lonely hiding in the forests of childhood, The Last Unicorn is as full of enchantment as any of the favorite tales readers may choose to recall.
- St. Louis Post-Dispatch
Beagle...has been compared not unreasonably with Lewis Carroll and J.R.R. Tolkien, but he stands squarely and triumphantly on his own feet....The book is rich, not only in comic bits but also in passages of uncommon beauty. Beagle is a true magician with words, a master of prose and a deft practitioner in verse.
- The Saturday Review
Charm, wit, and stylistic brilliance....This is a novel and a writer that should be read and reread.
- Chicago News
Mr. Beagle has...an inexhaustible bag of surprises...with overtones of Malory, Merlin, and the Arabian Nights....A writer whose work speaks so eloquently for itself needs no comparisons.
- Best Sellers
Children know perfectly well that unicorns aren't real, but they also know that books about unicorns, if they are good books, are true books.
- Ursula K. Le Guin
And I need this. It has a story in with Joe Farrell who was the main character in Folk of the Air.
STRANGE ROADS (CHAPBOOK)
Peter S. Beagle
Autographed by the author.
Cover art by Lisa Snellings-Clark.
DreamHaven Books. Chapbook. Three stories totaling 27,000 words.
$25.00 Click here to order Strange Roads.
[PLEASE NOTE: Dreamhaven has only printed 1,000 copies of this chapbook, and have not decided whether they will ever reprint it. Readers wanting a first edition should get their orders in ASAP, because the supply is limited.]
This title is the second in DreamHaven's Strange series of chapbooks, each one inspired by the art of Lisa Snellings-Clark. It includes three wonderful new stories by Peter, plus a cover and illustrations by Lisa.
The three stories are "Uncle Chaim and Aunt Rifke and the Angel," "King Pelles the Sure," and "Spook" (the latter featuring Joe Farrell, who has previously appeared in "Lila the Werewolf," "Julie's Unicorn," and the novel The Folk of the Air).
Here's how each story begins:
UNCLE CHAIM AND AUNT RIFKE AND THE ANGEL
My Uncle Chaim, who was a painter, was working in his studio - as he did on every day except Shabbos - when the blue angel showed up. I was there.
I was usually there most afternoons, dropping in on my way home from Fiorello LaGuardia Elementary School. I was what they call a "latchkey kid," these days. My parents both worked and traveled full-time, and Uncle Chaim’s studio had been my home base and my real playground since I was small. I was shy and uncomfortable with other children. Uncle Chaim didn’t have any kids, and didn’t know much about them, so he talked to me like an adult when he talked at all, which suited me perfectly. I looked through his paintings and drawings, tried some of my own, and ate Chinese food with him in silent companionship, when he remembered that we should probably eat. Sometimes I fell asleep on the cot. And when his friends - who were mostly painters like himself - dropped in to visit, I withdrew into my favorite corner and listened to their talk, and understood what I understood. Until the blue angel came.
It was very sudden: one moment I was looking through a couple of the comic books Uncle Chaim kept around for me, while he was trying to catch the highlight on the tendons under his model’s chin, and the next moment there was this angel standing before him, actually posing, with her arms spread out and her great wings taking up almost half the studio. She was not blue herself - a light beige would be closer - but she wore a blue robe that managed to look at once graceful and grand, with a white undergarment glimmering beneath. Her face, half-shadowed by a loose hood, looked disapproving.
I dropped the comic book and stared. No, I gaped, there’s a difference. Uncle Chaim said to her, “I can’t see my model. If you wouldn’t mind moving just a bit?” He was grumpy when he was working, but never rude.
“I am your model,” the angel said. “From this day forth, you will paint no one but me.”
“I don’t work on commission,” Uncle Chaim answered. “I used to, but you have to put up with too many aggravating rich people. Now I just paint what I paint, take it to the gallery. Easier on my stomach, you know?”
KING PELLES THE SURE
Once there was a king who dreamed of war. His name was Pelles.
He was a gentle and kindly monarch, who ruled over a small but wealthy and completely tranquil kingdom, beloved alike by noble and peasant, despite the fact that he had no queen, and so no heir except a brother to ensure an orderly succession. Even so, he was the envy of mightier kings, whose days were so full of putting down uprisings, fighting off one another’s invasions, and wiping out rebellious villages that they never knew a single moment of comfort or security. King Pelles - and his people, and his land - knew nothing else.
But the king dreamed of war.
SPOOK
When they came out of the consultation with the santero, Farrell said, "Seventy-five bucks. For seventy-five bucks I can get an Eskimo and make my own ice." It was his favorite Marx Brothers line, employed often.
Ben said, "Come on, we learned something. At least we know it’s bound to the house, can’t even go round the block. You and Julie can find another place easy, it’s a buyers’ market right now. I’m sure you could get the deposit back."
"Julie loves that dump." Farrell said sourly. "Says she’s finally got the north light exactly the way she wants it, and she’ll never move again, ever. And she means it, I know her." He kicked a bottle into the gutter, and then felt guilty and went back and picked it up. "“Buddies, lovers, partners - whatever the hell it is we are after twenty-five years - listen, if the Spook isn’t gone when she gets back, I’ll be sleeping at the restaurant with my clothes in a plastic bag. Live with an artist, you take your chances."
I wish it was my birthday. :( Or at least that Christmas was closer.
Maybe I should post this on myspace where all my family will see... heehee
And why don't I have a Last Unicorn icon?!?! What is wrong with me... man...
FIXED!!!