Laurie Lee

Summer

Vintage Minis

Buch

How do you remember the summers of your childhood? For Laurie Lee they were flower-crested, heady, endless days. Here is an evocation of summer like no other - a remote valley filled with the scent of hay, jazzing wasps, blackberries plucked and gobbled, and games played until the last drop of dusk. Lee's joyful and stirring writing captures the very essence of England's golden season. Selected from the book Cider with Rosie by Laurie Lee. VINTAGE MINIS: GREAT MINDS. BIG IDEAS. LITTLE BOOKS. A series of short books by the world's greatest writers on the experiences that make us human. Also in the Vintage Minis series: Liberty by Virginia Wool… Mehr

CHF 6.90

Preise inkl. MwSt. und Versandkosten (Portofrei ab CHF 40.00)

Versandfertig innerhalb 1-3 Werktagen

V112: Lieferbar in ca. 10-20 Arbeitstagen

Produktdetails

ISBN: 978-1-78487-292-2
EAN: 9781784872922
Produktnummer: 22406947
Verlag: Random House UK
Sprache: Englisch
Erscheinungsjahr: 2017
Seitenangabe: 96 S.
Ausstattung: A-Format Paperback
Masse: H17.7 cm x B10.8 cm x D0.9 cm 60 g
Gewicht: 60

Über den Autor

Laurie Lee was born in Stroud, Gloucestershire, in 1914, and was educated at Slad village school and Stroud Central School. At the age on nineteen he walked to London and then travelled on foot through Spain, as described in his book As I Walked Out One Midsummer Morning. In 1950 he married Catherine Polge and they had one daughter. Cider With Rosie (1959) has sold over six million copies worldwide, and was followed by two other volumes of autobiography: As I Walked Out One Midsummer Morning (1969) and A Moment of War (1991). Laurie Lee also published four collections of poems, The Sun My Monument (1944), The Bloom of Candles (1947), My Many-Coated Man (1955) and Packet Poems (1960) as well as The Voyage of Magellan (1948), a verse play for radio, A Rose for Winter (1955), which records his travels in Andalusia, The Firstborn (1964), I Can't Stay Long (1975), a collection of his writing, and Two Women (1983). Laurie Lee died in May 1997. In its obituary the Guardian wrote, 'He has a nightingale inside him, a capacity for sensuous, lyrical precisions'.