Telephone of the Tree
カートのアイテムが多すぎます
カートに追加できませんでした。
ウィッシュリストに追加できませんでした。
ほしい物リストの削除に失敗しました。
ポッドキャストのフォローに失敗しました
ポッドキャストのフォロー解除に失敗しました
聴き放題対象外タイトルです。Audible会員登録で、非会員価格の30%OFFで購入できます。
-
ナレーター:
-
Sara Matsui-Colby
-
著者:
-
Alison McGhee
このコンテンツについて
An unforgettable story of grief and the support of community as a young girl, faced with aching loss, begins to understand that what we love will always be with us.
Ayla and her best friend Kiri have always been tree people. They each have their own special tree, and neighbors and family know that they are most likely to be found within the branches. But after an accident on their street, Kiri has gone somewhere so far away that Ayla can only wait and wait in her birch, longing to be able to talk with Kiri again.
Then a mysterious, old-fashioned telephone appears one morning, nestled in the limbs of Ayla's birch tree. Where did it come from? she wonders. And why are people showing up to use this phone to call their loved ones? Especially loved ones who have passed on.
All Ayla wants is for Kiri to come home. Until that day comes, she will keep Kiri's things safe. She'll keep her nightmares to herself. And she will not make a call on that telephone.
©2024 Alison McGhee (P)2024 Listening Library批評家のレビュー
"Inspired by Itaru Sasaki’s phone booth in Japan, where people can symbolically call deceased loved ones, McGhee lays bare the powerful emotions entangled with loss while demonstrating the strength found in community."—Booklist
"McGhee injects a speculative twist to this tender tale about death and grief. Employing spare, sensory language, McGhee explores the painful negative space created by loss and the devastation of a friendship cut short, as well as the healing found in moving forward while remembering that 'there’s more... so much more.'"—Publishers Weekly
★ “Rather than trot in a therapist or some other mouthpiece for wise counseling, the author gives her protagonist subtler (and more believably effective) help reaching that insight—most notably parents who give her space rather than unwanted advice, and her grandfather’s old telephone. Readers feeling Ayla’s profound sense of loss will be relieved when she finds a way to live with it. Raw and sad but lit with occasional glints of humor and ending, as it should, on a rising note."—Kirkus, starred review