Book Beginnings on Friday and The Friday 56 are weekly memes hosted by Rose City Reader and Freda's Voice.
Rules:
Book Beginnings: Share the first sentence (or so) of the book you are reading, along with your initial thoughts about the sentence, impressions of the book, or anything else the opener inspires.
The Friday 56: Grab a book, turn to page 56 or 56% in you eReader. Find any sentence (not spoilery) and reflect on it if you want.
This week in the spotlight:
by Mary Elizabeth Braddon
Synopsis:
In this outlandish,
outrageous triumph of Scandal fiction, a new Lady Audley arrives at the
manor: young, beautiful - and very mysterious. Why does she behave so
strangely? What, exactly, is the dark secret this seductive outsider
carries with her?
A huge success in the nineteenth century, the book revels in an anti-heroine - with her good looks and hidden past - who embodied perfectly the concerns of the Victorian age with morality and madness.
A huge success in the nineteenth century, the book revels in an anti-heroine - with her good looks and hidden past - who embodied perfectly the concerns of the Victorian age with morality and madness.
Book Beginning:
It lay low down in a hollow, rich with fine old timber and luxuriant pastures; and you came upon it through an avenue of limes, bordered on either side by meadows, over the high hedges of which the cattle looked inquisitively at you as you passed, wondering, perhaps, what you wanted; for there was no thoroughfare, and unless you were going to the Court you had no business there at all.
A good long description of English countryside as an opening just does the trick for me - every time.
The Friday 56:
'I shall write to my cousin Alicia to-day, George' the young barrister said, upon this very 30th of August . 'Do you know that the day after to-morrow is the 1st of September? I shall write and tell her that we will both run down to the Court for a week's shooting.'
'No, no, Bob: go by yourself; they don't want me, and I'd rather–'
'Bury yourself in Fig-tree Court, with no company but my dogs and canaries! No, George, you shall do nothing of the kind!'
'But I don't care for shooting.'
'And do you suppose I care for it?' cried Robert, with charming naiveté. 'Why, man, I don't know a partridge from a pigeon, and it might be the 1st of April instead of the 1st of September for aught I care.'
They are young and rich and boooored.
Which book have you featured in your Friday post today?
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