- Paperback: 528 pages
- Publisher: Anchor (August 4, 2009)
- Language: English
- ISBN-10: 0307388670
- ISBN-13: 978-0307388674
- Product Dimensions: 5.2 x 0.9 x 8 inches
- Shipping Weight: 14.4 ounces (View shipping rates and policies)
- Average Customer Review: 569 customer reviews
- Amazon Best Sellers Rank: #65,750 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)
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The Gargoyle Paperback – August 4, 2009
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“Spellbinding. . . . A page-turning adventure that will keep you reading well past bedtime.” —The Boston Globe“An undeniably hot book. . . . It's as engrossing as it is gruesome, the kind of horror you watch with one eye closed. . . . A hell of a story.” —The Washington Post"Take a deep breath and plunge into this novel. It's a tale of love and redemption told through Davidson's haunting prose. " —USA Today“A transportingly unhinged debut. . . . Vigorous and impressive.” —The New York Times “Keeps the pages turning.” —The Plain Dealer “Take a deep breath and plunge into this novel. It's a tale of love and redemption told through Davidson's haunting prose.” —USA Today “Mr. Davidson skillfully assembles a centuries-old puzzle involving a series of fables of undying love. . . . The reader is kept guessing until the final pages.” —The Wall Street Journal“Mixes medical drama with medieval religious lore to explore the boundaries of faith and forgiveness. . . . Compelling.” —San Francisco Chronicle “Reads like the mad spawn of Anne Rice and Stephen King.” —Providence Journal “Original and highly addictive. . . . Captivating. . . . An impressive, memorable debut.” —The Denver Post “A story that sweeps us in with no protest. You want to be lost in its pages. . . . The real tragedy of this book is that it ends.” —Daily News“Beguiling. . . . Mixing romance, classic allusion and reality, Davidson's debut is a bravura performance.” —Marie Claire“I was blown away by Andrew Davidson's The Gargoyle. It reminded me of Life of Pi, with its unanswered (and unanswerable) contradictions. A hypnotic, horrifying, astonishing novel that manages, against all odds, to be redemptive." —Sara Gruen, author of Water for Elephants“The Gargoyle is purely and simply an amazement, a riot, a blast. It's hard to believe that this is Andrew Davidson's first novel: He barrels out of the chute with the narrative brio and confidence, not to mention the courage, of a seasoned master. This book plucks the reader off the ground and whirls her through the air until she shouts from sheer abandonment and joy. What a great, grand treat.” —Peter Straub
About the Author
ANDREW DAVIDSON was born in Pinawa, Manitoba, and graduated in 1995 from the University of British Columbia with a B.A. in English literature. He has worked as a teacher in Japan, where he has lived on and off, and as a writer of English lessons for Japanese Web sites. The Gargoyle, the product of seven years' worth of research and composition, is his first book. Davidson lives in Winnipeg, Manitoba.
Top customer reviews
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"Accidents ambush the unsuspecting, often violently, just like love."
I liked the odd love story of this book. How it's unadulterated love that Marianne felt and worked to it until the end. It was painful reading her struggle rather than the burn part which was quite odd but good because it was unexpected and gave it a sort of twist.
"I do not believe in any God that considers love to be a sin."
"I am not a hero in soul and never will be, but I am better than I was. Or so I tell myself; and for now, that is enough."
"If you cannot love the pain, you can at least love the lesson it teaches."
"All the while, I'm composing in my mind. These pages that you have now read, most of them originated at my lonely command post at the edge of the world where the earth falls into the sea. I have spent much time there, in this grand empty space between memory and desire, creating this cracked empire of sentences in which I now live."
Here are some quotes from "The Gargoyle" that show the author's creativity and wittiness:
“My flesh began to singe as if I were a scrap of meat newly thrown onto the barbecue, and then i could hear the bubbling of my skin as the flames kissed it.”
“I have no idea whether beginning with my accident was the best decision, as I've never written a book before. Truth be told, I started with the crash because I wanted to catch your interest and drag you into the story. You're still reading, so it seems to have worked.”
“The doctors removed my wasteland exterior by debriding me, scraping away the charred flesh. they brought in tanks of liquid nitrogen containing skin recently harvested from corpses. The sheets were thawed in pans of water, then neatly arranged on my back and stapled into place. Just like that, as if they were laying strips of sod over the problem areas behind their summer cabins, they wrapped me in the skin of the dead. My body was cleaned constantly but I rejected these sheets of necro-flesh anyway; I've never played well with others. So over and over again, I was sheeted with cadaver skin.”
"Every imperfection was amplified, and I looked like the bastard child of Hannibal Lecter and the Phantomess of the Opera."
"I wanted her to recoil at the sight of my lonely scrotum, which looked for all the world like a tumbleweed on the abandoned street of a ghost town."
"Morphine is like a religious zealot on a mission: it searches for body parts to convert, offerring milk-and-honeyed dreams to flow sluggishly through your veins."
"She was like an anthropomorphized butterball turkey, cast as the lead character in a Raymond Chandler novel......"Whaddya think you're looking at Crispy Critter?"
“I once knew a woman who liked to imagine Love in the guise of a sturdy dog, one that would always chase down the stick after it was thrown and return with his ears flopping around happily. Completely loyal, completely unconditional. And I laughed at her, because even I knew that love is not like that. Love is a delicate thing that needs to be cosseted and protected. Love is not robust and love is not unyeilding. Love can crumble under a few harsh words, or be tossed away with a handful of careless actions. Love isn't a steadfast dog at all; love is more like a pygmy mouse lemur. ”
“Didn't anyone ever tell you that the mouth is the front gate of all misfortune?”
“My words were Egyptian hieroglyphics before the discovery of the Rosetta stone; my words were wounded soldiers limping home, guns spent, from a lost battle; my words were dying fish, flipping hysterically as the net is opened and the pile spreads across the boat deck like a slippery mountain trying to become a prairie.
My words were, and are, unworthy of Marianne Engel.”