Tân Nhạc Việt Nam Thuở Ban Đầu tải về miễn phí cuốn sách

Erick Andrade _ould — I saw a contemporary play called "Trojan Barbie" that echoed themes of the Trojan Women and found it really interesting, in a depressing way. This inpsired me to go back to Euripides, who I remembered actually liking in high school when we read "Medea" in 10th grade. There's something about a woman's hurt and sorrow that he understands to the point that it transcends centuries, and that's the only way I can describe it.

Anais Nüssli anaisnuessli — When her baby brother is ripped from their safe, quaint neighborhood and flown away to the Impenetrable Wilderness, Prue—accidentally accompanied by her classmate Curtis—must risk it all to enter the woods, and there discover places and dangers unknown. With an epic adventure and journey, as well as an antagonist, in the style of Narnia and locales that mirror Redwall and other classic fantasy settings, Wildwood falls somewhere between homage and derivation. Unfortunately, this means that Wildwood reads more like a book that wants to be a classic than one that is: the right pieces are often there, but they're a little too familiar and so too often predictable; the book offers nothing more, be it startling originality in a Harry Potter-like world or the numinous qualities of a Narnia-like metaphor, to make it stand out. This doesn't mean that it wants for a Jesus analogy—but it does want something bigger, something more unique and memorable, to make it a classic or a must-read. Instead, Wildwood is just a good book. At a hefty 500 pages, it's an unapologetic epic—and Meloy flows smoothly from city to woods, indulging in the joy of a rambling journey without losing pace, maintaining a sense of humor without becoming twee, and altogether building a compelling tale. Ellis's stylized illustrations do even more than the prose to make the story vivid and unique. This is a book to lose yourself in for hours, which is a pleasure in its own right. Although it occasionally grows too quirky and cute (which is a mixed blessing as a St. Johns local—the depiction of the area is idealized, but no less delightful for that), Wildwood is also surprisingly dark. Without forgetting the age of its intended audience, the book recognizes and refuses to romanticize its violence—and so, however sure the reader is that all will turn out well in the end, there's a distinct sense of danger and loss. (Now if only Meloy would stop preferring humanoid lives to anthropomorphic ones.) Not all supporting characters are so lucky, but Prue and Curtis are fantastic—each is distinct, each is remarkably normal, each achieves something beyond their own expectations and perceived limitations, and that's almost exactly what I hope to see in all children's and young adult fiction. Wildwood wants desperately to be something more than this, but it's not—which may be its downfall, making it feel more disappointing and derivative than it really is. But even if the book is disappointed in itself, I'm satisfied with it: this is a solidly enjoyable, if ultimately unremarkable, tale, and I'm glad for the chance to read it. With those caveats, I recommend it to readers of all ages. (And yes, this first installment does stand alone.) (ARC received in a GoodReads First Reads giveaway.)