Información de la editorial
"This treatment of mental illness from the viewpoint of someone experiencing it is also a compellingly, fluidly written study of an individual." -- BULLETIN OF THE CENTER FOR CHILDREN'S BOOKS When fifteen-year-old Penn starts to hear voices, he is terrified. He can hear his parents' unspoken gripes, his retarded brother's anxieties, and his neighbor's desperation. His mother wants him to get treated for schizophrenia, but his similarly gifted uncle tells him that hearing others' thoughts doesn't make him sick; it makes him special. This compelling novel of a young man's struggle to come to terms with his disability is a tale of courage, determination, and hope.
Detalles
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Título
King of the Pygmies
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Autor
Jonathon Scott Fuqua
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Encuadernación
Tapa blanda
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Edición
First Edition
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Páginas
256
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Volúmenes
1
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Idioma
ENG
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Editorial
Candlewick Press (MA), U.S.A.
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Fecha de publicación
2007-10-09
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ISBN
9780763634124 / 0763634123
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Peso
0.65 libras (0.29 kg)
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Dimensiones
7.96 x 5.54 x 0.65 pulgadas (20.22 x 14.07 x 1.65 cm)
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Época
de 14 a UP años
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Cursos
9 - UP
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Nivel de lectura
730
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Library of Congress subjects
Conduct of life, Schools
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Dewey Decimal Code
FIC
Extracto
He took a few deep breaths. "You aren't bullying me?"
"No, sir."
Dad's eyes wandered. "Are you feeling sick or something?"
"No, sir, not sick. But I think . . . I think out of absolutely nowhere I might be going crazy or something. I'm scared I might be. That's why I was carving on the bed. I keep a record of how long it's been between when the voices come."
My dad rubbed a hand across his cheeks and mouth. "Penn, sweetie, I'm not exactly sure, but I think this might be a real type of problem. Normal people don't hear voices is all, not if they aren't sick-feeling."
"I know," I answered, getting a little more worried.
"God Almighty," Dad said. Ignoring my long-standing instructions not to give me a hug, he leaned over and slapped his arms around me and jostled me in a loving way, in the way he can. He jammed his nose against my head, mooshing his nostrils so that I could feel his wet breath against the roots of my hair.
"Sorry," I told him, feeling guilty.
"It ain't your fault, sweetie."
"I don't think it is."
We sat quiet for a few minutes. As his breath tranquilized me, as the room got darker, he let go. Slowly, his sad look changed, and he put a hand under my chin. "You know what? I take it back. I bet this all goes away. I bet you're gonna be okay. I can feel it inside, like woman's intuition, except for, you know, I'm a man. You're a good, normal teenage boy, and you're gonna be fine. This is just a momentary problem that's gonna disappear. Maybe it's just hormones. Maybe it's a flu. Who knows, but it ain't permanent."
"You think?"
"Oh yeah. Craziness just doesn't happen to a boy who's been normal his whole life. It doesn't hit sudden like that."
"Really?" I asked, worried that he had no idea what he was talking about.
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Reseñas en medios
He took a few deep breaths. "You aren't bullying me?"
"No, sir."
Dad's eyes wandered. "Are you feeling sick or something?"
"No, sir, not sick. But I think . . . I think out of absolutely nowhere I might be going crazy or something. I'm scared I might be. That's why I was carving on the bed. I keep a record of how long it's been between when the voices come."
My dad rubbed a hand across his cheeks and mouth. "Penn, sweetie, I'm not exactly sure, but I think this might be a real type of problem. Normal people don't hear voices is all, not if they aren't sick-feeling."
"I know," I answered, getting a little more worried.
"God Almighty," Dad said. Ignoring my long-standing instructions not to give me a hug, he leaned over and slapped his arms around me and jostled me in a loving way, in the way he can. He jammed his nose against my head, mooshing his nostrils so that I could feel his wet breath against the roots of my hair.
"Sorry," I told him, feeling guilty.
"It ain't your fault, sweetie."
"I don't think it is."
We sat quiet for a few minutes. As his breath tranquilized me, as the room got darker, he let go. Slowly, his sad look changed, and he put a hand under my chin. "You know what? I take it back. I bet this all goes away. I bet you're gonna be okay. I can feel it inside, like woman's intuition, except for, you know, I'm a man. You're a good, normal teenage boy, and you're gonna be fine. This is just a momentary problem that's gonna disappear. Maybe it's just hormones. Maybe it's a flu. Who knows, but it ain't permanent."
"You think?"
"Oh yeah. Craziness just doesn't happen to a boy who's been normal his whole life. It doesn't hit sudden like that."
"Really?" I asked, worried that he had no idea what he was talking about.
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KING OF THE PYGMIES by Jonathon Scott Fuqua. Copyright (c) 2005 by Jonathon Scott Fuqua. Published by Candlewick Press, Inc., Cambridge, MA.
Acerca del autor
JONATHON SCOTT FUQUA is the author of many acclaimed books for young readers, including DARBY, a Book Sense 76 Top Ten Pick and an International Reading Association Notable Children's Book. His debut novel, THE REAPPEARANCE OF SAM WEBBER, won an American Library Association Alex Award and was a SCHOOL LIBRARY JOURNAL Best Book of the Year. The BOSTON GLOBE described Jonathon Scott Fuqua's most recent novel, THE WILLOUGHBY SPIT WONDER, as "the kind of novel . . . that comes along only once in a blue moon."
