Goodness

Why do we need fiction? Why do books need to be printed on paper, copyrighted, read to the finish? Why should a group of aging Swedish men determine what “world” literature is best? Do books change anything? Did they use to? Do we read to challenge our vision of the world or to confirm it? Has novel writing turned into a job like any other? In , the internationally acclaimed novelist and critic Tim Parks ranges over a lifetime of critical reading--from Leopardi, Dickens and Chekhov, to Woolf, Lawrence and Bernhard, and on to contemporary work by Jonathan Franzen, Peter Stamm, and many others—to overturn many of our long-held assumptions about literature and its purpose.  

Taking the form of thirty-eight interlocking essays, examines the rise of the “global” novel and the disappearance of literary styles that do not travel; the changing vocation of the writer today; the increasingly paradoxical effects of translation; the shifting expectations we bring to fiction; the growing stasis of literary criticism; and the problematic relationship between writers’ lives and their work.  In the end Parks wonders whether writers—and readers--can escape the twin pressures of the new global system and the novel that has become its emblematic genre.

At the midpoint of his life, Jerry Marlow finds himself on a bus from Milan to Strasbourg, taking stock of the wreckage strewn behind him — a failed marriage, a daughter going astray, and an affair that has left him both numb and licking every wound, self-inflicted or otherwise. Even his teaching job is in peril. And what lies around the next bend? There are times when the most appalling premonitions seem all too plausible, yet the pull of hope cannot be resisted. Fueled by Marlow's scalpel-sharp commentary, Europa bristles with ferocious wordplay and a vision of the sexes as honest as it is incorrect.

The remarkable story of the Renaissance's preeminent financiers. "A swift and brilliant synthesis of finance, politics, and history."—Ben Sisario,

Their name is a byword for immense wealth and power, but before their renown as art patrons and noblemen the Medicis built their fortune on banking—specifically, on lending money at interest. Banking in the fifteenth century, even at the height of the Renaissance, meant running afoul of the Catholic Church's prohibition against usury. It required more than merely financial skills to make a profit, and the legendary Medicis—most famously Cosimo and Lorenzo ("the Magnificent")—were masterly in wielding the political, diplomatic, military, and even metaphysical tools that were needed to maintain their family's position.

In this brisk and witty narrative, Tim Parks uncovers the intrigues, dodges, and moral qualities that gave the Medicis their edge. Vividly evoking the richness of the Florentine Renaissance and the Medicis' glittering circle, replete with artists, popes, and kings, Medici Money is a brilliant look into the origins of modern banking and its troubled relationship with art and religion. 14 illustrations.

A riveting white-water ride down a raging river in the Italian Alps, pitting people against Nature, in the novel Tim Parks was born to write.

How does an Italian become Italian? Or an Englishman English, for that matter? Are foreigners born, or made? In Tim Parks focuses on his own young children in the small village near Verona where he lives, building a fascinating picture of the contemporary Italian family at school, at home, at work and at play. The result is a delight: at once a family book and a travel book, not quite enamoured with either children or Italy, but always affectionate, always amused and always amusing.

In the bestselling Italian Neighbours, Tim Parks explores the idiosyncrasies and nuances of Italian culture. When Parks moved to Italy he found it irresistible; this book is a testament to his love of Italy and his attention to the details of everyday Italian life.

Sex is forbidden at the Dasgupta Institute. So what is the sparkling, magnetically attractive Beth Marriot doing here? Why is a young woman whose irrepressible vitality and confident ego were once set on conquest and stardom, now spending month after month serving in the vegetarian kitchen of a bizarrely severe Buddhist retreat?

Beth is fighting demons: a catastrophic series of events has undermined all prospect of happiness. Trauma leaves her no alternative but to bury herself in the austere asceticism of a community that wakes at 4am, doesn't permit eye contact, let alone speech, and keeps men and women strictly segregated. But the curious self dies hard. Conflicted and wayward, Beth stumbles on a diary and cannot keep away from it, or the man who wrote it. And the more she yearns for the purity of the retreat's silent priestess, the more she desires the priestess herself.

The Server

Знакомьтесь – Моррис Дакворт. Гонимый и неприкаянный Раскольников наших дней. Невинный убийца. Рассудительный безумец. Нищий репетитор однажды осознает, что есть только один путь завоевать благосклонность Фортуны – отказаться от традиционной морали и изобрести свою собственную. Моррис похищает влюбленную в него юную итальянку Массимину, и отныне пути назад нет. «Дорогая Массимина» – утонченный и необычный психологический триллер. Тим Паркс ухватил суть безумия убийцы, его умение имитировать нормальные человеческие чувства. Не стоит ждать, что Паркс станет в деталях описывать, как кровь капает с ледоруба на отрезанные конечности. Моррис Дакворт совсем не страшен, он даже не противен. Он вовсе не маньяк. Он несчастный бедолага, которому сочувствуешь всей душой и пугаешься собственного сочувствия. Преступная одиссея Морриса описана с хичкоковским юмором. Переживания Морриса страшны и комичны, и нет им конца. Но есть финал, который заставит вас испустить вздох облегчения и тотчас ужаснуться этому.