After Silence

de Jonathan Carroll

Le livre

After Silence a été publié initialement chez Doubleday en 1993.

La quatrième de couverture (1994)

In his late thirties, Max Fisher is a successful cartoonist living in Los Angeles. Scarred by recent love affairs, he is cautious yet nevertheless intrigued when he meets Lily Aaron and her son Lincoln. As Max spends more time with the Aarons, he falls hoplessly in love with them. The perfect mate, the perfect child - the perfect situation, since they seem to love him, too, with equal intensity.

But all is not perfect. Shortly afer Max moves in with the Aarons, he discovers that Lily has committed a crime so heinous that she has been running from the truth for years. Max is suddenly faced with making the most difficult decision of his life: should he right Lily's wrong - sacrificing his adoptive family ? Or should he look away from the truth ? Either choice is devastating.

Critical Acclaim for After Silence
``Riveting... After Silence is filled with people who feel as real as one's closest friends, observed with a penetrating, and sometimes brutally chilling, clarity ...a taut, original work whose excellence fulfills the promises made by this remarkable authors over the past dozen years.''
-- San Francisco Chronicle

``Terrifying and thoroughly seductive.''
-- New York Times Book Review

``Highly entertaining... reveals profound truths about love, secrets and the nature of families.''
-- Boston Globe

``An electrifying, unforgettable novel that unfolds with the logic of a Greek tragedy... Carroll writes with uncompromising honesty about how secrets gnaw and kill.''
-- Publishers Weekly (Starred review)

``A thriller so engaingly told that a reader might be tempted to put the world on hold until the very last page,''
-- New York Times Book Review


L'édition dont je dispose indique :
Copyright © 1992 by Jonathan Carroll
First Main Street Edition : April 1994
ISBN 0-385-47351-6

La couverture

La couverture est créditée Honi Werner.

The beginning...

How much does a life weigh? Is it the product of our positive or worthwhile acts, divided by the bad? Or is it only the human body itself, put on a scale - a two-hundred-pound life?

I hold a gun to my son's head. He weighs about one hundred and thirty pounds, the gun no more than two. Another way of thinking about it: My son Lincoln's life weighs only so much as this pistol in my hand. Or the bullet that will kill him? And after the shot will there be no weight?

He is smiling. I am terrified. I'll pull the trigger and he will die, yet he's smiling as if this fatal metal against his head is the finger of a loved one.

Who am I? How can I do this to my own son? Listen-