Book
Fruit of the dead : a novel
An electric contemporary reimagining of the myth of Persephone and Demeter set over the course of one summer on a lush private island, about addiction and sex, family and independence, and who holds the power in a modern underworld. Camp counselor Cory Ansel, eighteen and aimless, afraid to face her high-strung single mother in New York, is no longer sure where home is when the father of one of her campers offers an alternative. The CEO of a Fortune 500 pharmaceutical company, Rolo Picazo is middle-aged, divorced, magnetic. He is also intoxicated by Cory. When Rolo proffers a childcare job (and an NDA), Cory quiets an internal warning and allows herself to be ferried to his private island. Plied with luxury and opiates manufactured by his company, she continues to tell herself she's in charge. Her mother, Emer, head of a teetering agricultural NGO, senses otherwise. With her daughter seemingly vanished, Emer crosses land and sea to heed a cry for help she alone is convinced she hears. Alternating between the two women's perspectives, Rachel Lyon's Fruit of the Dead incorporates its mythic inspiration with a light touch and devastating precision. The result is a tale that explores love, control, obliteration, and America's own late capitalist mythos. Lyon's reinvention of Persephone and Demeter's story makes for a haunting and ecstatic novel that vibrates with lush abandon. Readers will not soon forget it.
A snare for the bloom-like girl
The wide-pathed earth yawned there in the plain
The sea's salt swell laughed for joy
I sped, like wild-bird, over firm land and yielding sea
And the heights of the mountains and the depths of the sea rang with her voice
Tell me truly of my dear child if you have seen her anywhere
But no one heard her voice, nor yet the olive-trees
Strange woman, I went out wasting with yearning
And she yet beheld earth and starry heaven, and the strong-flower sea where fishes shoal, and still hoped to see her mother
Disfigured by grief terrible and savage, I sat near the wayside like an ancient woman
From the misty gloom, in his house upon a couch, his shy mate, much reluctant, yearned for her mother
Go now, he urged, to your dark-robed mother, go, and feel kindly in your heart toward me
while you are here, you shall rule all that lives and moves, queen of the land of sweet and sea-girt
The wide-pathed earth yawned there in the plain
The sea's salt swell laughed for joy
I sped, like wild-bird, over firm land and yielding sea
And the heights of the mountains and the depths of the sea rang with her voice
Tell me truly of my dear child if you have seen her anywhere
But no one heard her voice, nor yet the olive-trees
Strange woman, I went out wasting with yearning
And she yet beheld earth and starry heaven, and the strong-flower sea where fishes shoal, and still hoped to see her mother
Disfigured by grief terrible and savage, I sat near the wayside like an ancient woman
From the misty gloom, in his house upon a couch, his shy mate, much reluctant, yearned for her mother
Go now, he urged, to your dark-robed mother, go, and feel kindly in your heart toward me
while you are here, you shall rule all that lives and moves, queen of the land of sweet and sea-girt
Item details
- ISBN: 1668020874
- ISBN: 9781668020876
- ISBN: 1668020858
- ISBN: 9781668020852
-
Physical Description:
xii, 302 pages ; 22 cm
print - Edition: First Scribner hardcover edition.
- Publisher: New York : Scribner, an imprint of Simon & Schuster, LLC, 2024.
- Copyright: ©2024
Contents / Notes
| Formatted Contents Note: | A snare for the bloom-like girl The wide-pathed earth yawned there in the plain The sea's salt swell laughed for joy I sped, like wild-bird, over firm land and yielding sea And the heights of the mountains and the depths of the sea rang with her voice Tell me truly of my dear child if you have seen her anywhere But no one heard her voice, nor yet the olive-trees Strange woman, I went out wasting with yearning And she yet beheld earth and starry heaven, and the strong-flower sea where fishes shoal, and still hoped to see her mother Disfigured by grief terrible and savage, I sat near the wayside like an ancient woman From the misty gloom, in his house upon a couch, his shy mate, much reluctant, yearned for her mother Go now, he urged, to your dark-robed mother, go, and feel kindly in your heart toward me; while you are here, you shall rule all that lives and moves, queen of the land of sweet and sea-girt |
Find similar items by subject
| Genre: | Romans. Adaptations. Novels. Adaptations. Psychological fiction. Mythological fiction. |
Show Only Available Copies
| Library System: Library Branch Name
|
Call Number / Copy Notes | Barcode | Shelving Location | Status | |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Flint River Regional Library System: Peachtree City Library |
LYON (
Send Text) |
31022010425327 | ADULT | Available |
