By Brigid Pasulka
at the eve of worldwide conflict II, in a spot known as Half-Village, a tender guy nicknamed the Pigeon falls in love with a lady fabled for her angelic seems. To court docket Anielica Hetmanská he deals up his "golden hands" to remodel her family's modest hut right into a appealing domestic, thereby construction his method into her heart.
Then conflict arrives to chop brief their courtship, hold up their marriage, and wreak havoc in all their lives, even sending the younger enthusiasts faraway from domestic to the promise of a brand new lifestyles in Kraków.
approximately fifty years later, their granddaughter, Beata, repeats their postwar trip, looking a brand new lifestyles within the fairy-tale urban of her grandmother's tales. but if she arrives in Kraków, rather than the whispered prosperity of the recent Poland, she discovers a urban stuck among its destiny and its previous, and whole of annoyed youths. Taken in by way of her toughtalking cousin Irena and Irena's glamorous daughter Magda, Beata struggles to discover her personal position in Nineteen Nineties Kraków and within the constellation of Irena and Magda's fierce love. yet unforeseen events— tragedies and miracles— can switch lives and open eyes. And Beata could discover a new means of seeing her family's and her country's history— in addition to a imaginative and prescient for her personal position within the New Poland.
Whimsical, clever, attractive, magical, and infrequently even heartbreaking, an extended, very long time in the past and basically precise weaves jointly extraordinary tales, reimagining part a century of Polish historical past during the legacy of 1 unforgettable love affair.
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Extra info for A Long, Long Time Ago and Essentially True
Sample text
When I was here all those years ago, in the time of the gods, the Cedars was a summer house, for rent by the fortnight or the month. During all of June each year a rich doctor and his large, raucous family infested it—we did not like the doctor’s loud-voiced children, they laughed at us and threw stones from behind the unbreachable barrier of the gate—and after them a mysterious middle-aged couple came, who spoke to no one, and grimly walked their sausage dog in silence at the same time every morning down Station Road to the strand.
She began to weep, absent-mindedly, it might be, making no sound. I moved clumsily to embrace her but she drew back sharply. ” she snapped. ” The kettle came to the boil and switched itself off and the seething water inside it settled down grumpily. I marvelled, not for the first time, at the cruel complacency of ordinary things. But no, not cruel, not complacent, only indifferent, as how could they be otherwise? Henceforth I would have to address things as they are, not as I might imagine them, for this was a new version of reality.
Meekly, however, I halted the car at the side of the road and she got out in a vexed silence and slammed the door behind her as if she were delivering me a box on the ear. What had I done to annoy her so? There are times when she is as wilfully moody as her mother. And then suddenly, unlikeliest of all, behind the huddle of the Lupins’ leprechaun houses, here was Duignan’s lane, rutted as it always was, ambling between tangled hedges of hawthorn and dusted-over brambles. How had it survived the depredations of lorry and crane, of diggers both mechanical and human?