By Carol Goodman
Within the evocative culture of Donna Tartt’s first novel, the key historical past, comes this entire debut of younger innocence drowned by way of darkish sins. two decades in the past, Jane Hudson left the center Lake university for women within the Adirondacks after a negative tragedy. Now she has lower back to the placid, remoted beaches of the lakeside tuition as a Latin instructor, lately separated and hoping to make a clean commence along with her younger daughter. yet ominous messages from the prior dredge up forgotten stories that might turn into a dwelling nightmare.Since novices yr, Jane and her roommates, Lucy Toller and Deirdre corridor, have been inseparable–studying the classics, appearing university lady rituals at the lake, and sneaking out after curfew to satisfy Lucy’s charismatic brother Matt. despite the fact that, the final wintry weather sooner than commencement, every thing replaced. For in that sheltered, ice-encrusted wonderland, 3 lives have been taken, all sufferers of mindless suicide. basically Jane used to be left to hold the load of a secret that has stayed hidden for greater than twenty years at nighttime depths of middle Lake. Now pages from Jane’s lacking magazine, written in the course of that tragic time, have reappeared, revealing surprising, long-buried secrets and techniques. And without notice, younger, women are commencing to die back . . . as piece by means of piece the shattering fact slowly floats to the surface.At as soon as compelling, sensuous, and clever, The Lake of lifeless Languages is an eloquent mystery, an complex stability of suspense and advantageous storytelling that proves Carol Goodman is an extraordinary new expertise with an excellent future.From the Hardcover variation.
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Additional resources for The Lake of Dead Languages: A Novel
All I've left out are the last two lines of the story, which read, "His life had been saved, but he has lost his heart. " WHEN OLIVIA HAS FALLEN ASLEEP I TAKE OUT THE PIECE OF paper folded in my skirt pocket. As I unfold it I am sure that I will see now that the handwriting is Athena's, or Vesta's or Aphrodite's, anyone's but my own. But as I stare at the words again there is no escaping the truth. I recognize not only my own handwriting, but the ink--a peculiar shade of peacock blue that Lucy Toller gave me, along with a fountain pen in the same color, for my fifteenth birthday.
Gwen especially seems to list to one side from the weight of her book bag. I ask if she needs some help and she pulls out a thick manila envelope and hands it to me. "Oh, thank you, Jane, I was going to ask if someone could type these student poems up for the literary magazine. " She lifts up her arms and I see that both forearms are wrapped in Ace bandages. All I'd meant to offer was to carry something for her, but what can I say? I transfer the heavy folder from her bag to mine. Now I'm the one listing to one side as we leave the Music Room, and Gwen, lightened of her load, hurries on ahead to class.
Now the school uses paper napkins and the teachers serve themselves from a buffet. Tuna fish salad and packaged bread. Carrot sticks and hard-boiled eggs. What hasn't changed, though, is the mandatory attendance for all faculty. It was a tenet of India Crevecoeur, Heart Lake's founder, that the teaching staff be a community. It is an admirable goal, but on days like today I'd give much to be able to take my sandwich out to a rock by the lake with no one but Ovid for company. As I enter the room I give India's image in the family portrait a resentful look, which she, snug in the bosom of her large family, disdainfully returns.
The Lake of Dead Languages: A Novel by Carol Goodman