Theft: A Love Story
 |
Theft is a novel by Australian writer Peter Carey. It won the 2006 Vance Palmer Prize, the Victorian Premier's Literary Awards' prize for fiction.
| File:Careytheft.jpg | |
| Author | Peter Carey |
|---|---|
| Cover artist | Chip Kidd |
| Language | English |
| Publisher | Alfred A Knopf |
Publication date | 9 May 2006 |
| Pages | 272 |
| ISBN | ISBN 0-307-26371-1 Parameter error in {{ISBNT}}: invalid character |
Blurb
Narrated by the twin voices of the artist Butcher Bones, and his 'damaged two-hundred-and-twenty-pound brother' Hugh. THEFT: A LOVE STORY once again displays Peter Carey's extraordinary flair of language/ Ranging from rural wilds of Australia to Manhattan via Tokyo, it is a brilliant and moving exploration of art, fraud, responsibility and redemption.
Quotes
"He raised the big lube-bay door to the river and stood for a long moment looking down at the Never Never, talking—this is not made-up—about Monet's fucking Water Lilies." - Chapter 1 (Micheal, speaking of Jean-Paul Milan)
"Baldy was in a rage with the sand from La Perouse and, as always, it was personal i.e. mountains had been born and broken—bloody rock, bloody tides, fish were dead, shells hollow, corrals snapped like bones—therefore the grains of sand now lying on the seat of the Holden ute must have traveled through eternity with the SOLE INTENTION of irritating his pimply arse. Our father Blue Bones was much the same and we brothers cowered before his fury when TRACKED-IN SAND was detected on the carpets of the VAUXHALL CRESTA and then there were such threats of whippings with razor strops, electric flex, greenhide belts, God save us, he had that mouth, cruel as a cut across his skin. As a boy I could never understand why nice clean sand would cause such terror in my dad's blooshot eyes, but I had never seen an hourglass and did not know that I would die. None shall be spared, and when my father's hour was come then the eternal sand-filled wind blew inside his guts and ripped him raw, God forgive him for his sins. He could never know peace in life or even death, never understood what it might be to become a grain of sand, falling whispering with the grace of multitudes, through the fingers of the Lord." - Chapter 14 (Hugh)
"I pointed out the second pill was a different colour from the first pill. He replided that we were desperados not decorators." - Chapter 44 (Hugh, speaking of Oliver Leibovitz)
 | This article about a novel is a stub. You can help Wikipedia by expanding it. See guidelines for writing about Novels. Further suggestions might be found on the article's talk page. |