As the acknowledged 'Queen of Crime' P.D. James was frequently commissioned by newspapers and magazines to write a special short story for Christmas. Four of the very best of these have been rescued from the archives and are published together for the first time. P.D. James's sparkling prose illumin
The Murdered City and Other Stories
β Scribed by Fernand Mysor
- Book ID
- 111684766
- Publisher
- Hollywood Comics
- Year
- 2018
- Tongue
- English
- Weight
- 201 KB
- Category
- Fiction
- ISBN-13
- 9781612277912
No coin nor oath required. For personal study only.
β¦ Synopsis
In The Murdered City (1925), Blasius, an unknown and mocked scholar, manages to create a philosopherβs stone which transforms everything it touches into gold. This diabolical man acquires an island, gathers other unfortunate people, builds a fantastic city and reigns over it. The Murdered City has affinities with accounts of island utopias gone wrong and doomed superscientific cities. Science enables the fulfillment of the ancient alchemical dream, but gold here functions as a symbol of modern civilization as an irresistible force of corruption. A second novel included in this volume, By Wireless (1927), shares the speculative elements of the plot, the strange character of its disfigured protagonist, and the bizarrerie of his hopeless and fatal amorous obsession. Fernand Mysor never achieved any great success and has been almost forgotten. A writer of such imaginative range deserves to be better known today, when more readers are capable of appreciating his exotic artistry and interested in discovering unusual themes and philosophical viewpoints.
π SIMILAR VOLUMES
**Four previously uncollected stories from one of the great mystery writers of our time --swift, cunning murder mysteries (two of which feature the young Adam Dalgliesh) that together, to borrow the author's own word, add up to a delightful "entertainment."** The newly appointed Sgt. Dalgliesh is
"Pops stormed his way down the hall in a pissed-off march--trouble on the move. A quick glance at his florid, contorted face told me he was smashed. I looked down at meat, spoon, dough--anything to avoid his bleary red eyes. The stench of booze sickened me. So did my father." In the title story of
"Pops stormed his way down the hall in a pissed-off march--trouble on the move. A quick glance at his florid, contorted face told me he was smashed. I looked down at meat, spoon, dough--anything to avoid his bleary red eyes. The stench of booze sickened me. So did my father." In the title story of
"Tod Goldberg's stories are not like faceted jewels. They are like glinting barbed wire, actually, roped across the field where you are reading, racing, wondering what's next, and then pierced with longing, regret, or revelation. His new collection kept me reading like that -- racing to find out wha