Download Alias Grace: A Novel by Margaret Atwood PDF

By Margaret Atwood

In Alias Grace, bestselling writer Margaret Atwood has written her such a lot appealing, anxious, and eventually fulfilling paintings considering The Handmaid's Tale. She takes us again in time and into the lifetime of probably the most enigmatic and infamous ladies of the 19th century.

Grace Marks has been convicted for her involvement within the vicious murders of her company, Thomas Kinnear, and Nancy Montgomery, his housekeeper and mistress. a few think Grace is blameless; others imagine her evil or insane. Now serving a existence sentence, Grace claims to haven't any reminiscence of the murders.

Dr. Simon Jordan, an up-and-coming professional within the burgeoning box of psychological sickness, is engaged by way of a bunch of reformers and spiritualists who search a pardon for Grace. He listens to her tale whereas bringing her nearer and toward the day she can't be mindful. what is going to he locate in trying to unencumber her stories? Is Grace a feminine fiend? A bloodthirsty femme fatale? Or is she the sufferer of circumstances?

From the alternate Paperback edition.

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Additional resources for Alias Grace: A Novel

Example text

Jason. Did I betray myself to him£ No. There was a moment, a fleeting, seductive moment, but I kept quiet. Yes I did, I kept quiet. Jason was waiting for me, I hadn't reckoned on that, I still don't know him completely, I've avoided knowing him completely be­ cause it wasn't important to me anymore— a convenient but danger­ ous omission. Instead of sparing no effort to anticipate his every impulse, I afforded myself the luxury of indifference; otherwise I would have realized that the mixture of triumph and humiliation he'd experienced at the King's banquet table would arouse his desire to such a point that only I could satisfy it, not any of the palace girls, ready and willing though they are.

No. I was the only one w ith a premonition of evil, because I knew how suspiciously Father regarded these guests. The only one except for you, Mother. You didn't need any new reasons for gloomy premonitions. You knew the King. I had to deal with the father inside of me: You shall not betray me, m y daughter. I knew that Jason wanted the Fleece. I knew that the King didn't want to give it to him. I didn't ask w hy not. M y duty was to help Father render this man harmless, no matter what the price.

The serpent. I still dream about it. The Colchian monster-snake that wrapped its monstrous length around the trunk of the oak tree. I see it in my dreams the way my men describe it: three-headed, as thick as the tree trunk, and, it goes without saying, spewing fire. I reserve my opinion on these points, it may be that I failed to notice some details in my battle-frenzy, and the Corinthians want to be told that in the wild east the beasts, too, are horrifying and uncon­ trollable, and they shudder when you tell them the Colchians kept snakes by their hearths as household gods and fed them w ith milk and honey.

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