By Carsten Jensen
This is often an epic drama of experience, braveness, ruthlessness and keenness via one in every of Scandinavia's so much acclaimed storytellers. In 1848, a motley team of Danish sailors units sail from the small island city of Marstal to struggle the Germans. no longer them all go back - and people who do seriously isn't a similar. between them is the daredevil Laurids Madsen, who quickly escapes back into the anonymity of the excessive seas. once he's sufficiently old, his son Albert units off looking for his lacking father on a voyage that may take him to the furthest reaches of the globe and into the clutches of the main nefarious corporation. Bearing a mysterious shrunken head, and laid low with premonitions of bloodshed, he returns to a city more and more run via ladies - between them a widow motive on freeing all males from the tyranny of the ocean. From the barren rocks of Newfoundland to the luxurious plantations of Samoa, from the roughest bars in Tasmania, to the frozen coasts of northern Russia, "We, The Drowned" spans 4 generations, global wars and 100 years. Carsten Jensen conjures a sensible, funny, exciting tale of fathers and sons, of the ladies they love and go away at the back of, and of the sea's murderous promise. this can be a novel destined to take its position one of the maximum seafaring literature.
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Extra info for We, the Drowned
The things we’ll see, he thought. The images I can create, the routes I will map, the details I can write. And someday, perhaps, future Voyagers will pore over my book, and they will learn. Ramus opened his bottle of ink and chose his finest quill. On the first page of the book he wrote: The Final Voyage of Ramus Rheel Year 143, Age of Expansion In the company of Nomi Hyden He sat back and stared at the page. When he turned it over, the stark white of the next sheet suddenly seemed emptier than ever.
Nomi,” Beko said. She turned around, looking back into the cavern of a room. ” Then she shut the door, climbed the steps to the street and went to find a runner. qxp 1/28/08 7:43 AM Page 29 Chapter 2 R A M U S S A T J U S T inside the library entrance, holding his head and hissing as the pain receded. His vision and hearing throbbed with each heartbeat, but the nausea was passing. Not now, he thought. Not while I need all my wits about me. He grasped the rolled parchment pages in his left hand, and they too seemed to pulse with each beat of his heart.
Chasing myself, he thought. Chasing my own mortality. He bought breakfast from an early street vendor and ate while he was walking. His bags were heavy, containing several books, his clothing and weapons and a roll of maps, including the new one he had made yesterday. But he felt fit and ready, and he enjoyed breaking a sweat as he climbed the hill and headed south. Dawn painted the horizon to the east, but shadows still ruled the streets, though most were shrinking back to wait out the day. Once or twice he heard a whisper as he passed, and he looked down at his feet, not wishing to attract attention.
We, the Drowned by Carsten Jensen