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    breakingnews:

Chinese author Mo Yan wins Nobel Prize in literature
BBC: Chinese writer Mo Yan is the recipient of the 2012 Nobel Prize for literature, making him the 109th recipient of the award. The Swedish Academy praised his work, saying the ‘hallucinatory realism merges folk tales, history and the contemporary.’
Photo: File via AP

“His win makes him the first Chinese writer to win the Nobel in its 111-year history: although Gao Xingjian won in 2000, and was born in China, he is now a French citizen, and although Pearl Buck took the prize in 1938, for “her rich and truly epic descriptions of peasant life in China and for her biographical masterpieces”, she is an American author.” - From Alison Flood at the Guardian

    breakingnews:

    Chinese author Mo Yan wins Nobel Prize in literature

    BBC: Chinese writer Mo Yan is the recipient of the 2012 Nobel Prize for literature, making him the 109th recipient of the award. The Swedish Academy praised his work, saying the ‘hallucinatory realism merges folk tales, history and the contemporary.’

    Photo: File via AP

    “His win makes him the first Chinese writer to win the Nobel in its 111-year history: although Gao Xingjian won in 2000, and was born in China, he is now a French citizen, and although Pearl Buck took the prize in 1938, for “her rich and truly epic descriptions of peasant life in China and for her biographical masterpieces”, she is an American author.” - From Alison Flood at the Guardian

  2. Quote

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    It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.” The one everyone knows (and quotes). Parodied, spoofed, and misremembered, Austen’s celebrated zinger remains the archetypal First Line for an archetypal tale. Only Dickens comes close, with the beginning of A Tale of Two Cities: “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light etc…

    Jane Austen
    Pride and Prejudice (1813)

    The 10 best first lines in fiction

    Our guide to the greatest opening lines of novels in the English language, from Jane Austen to James Joyce

  3. Quote

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    This being Urban Dictionary, there are of course lots of naughtier ones, including the most recherche slang for cocaine I’ve ever heard in the form of “Walt Whitman” – he wrote long lines, see? And then there’s the felicitous “Hemingway”, a verb meaning to write an essay under the influence of alcohol. I think he would have been proud of that one. JK Rowling might be less happy about hers: some belletrist has proposed the children’s author’s name as a marvellously inappropriate if semantically sly term for “being under the effects of cannabis (jay) and ketamine (kay): JK Rowling. Ex: Man, I’m rowling so hard right now. Hermione Hoby unpicks how the Urban Dictionary is redefining literature’s biggest names – add your suggestions for the canon redux

    (Source: )

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    Photograph: Anna and Elena Balbusso
Striking illustrations from a new edition of Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale:

As we wait in our double line, the door opens and  two more women come in, both in the red dresses and white wings of the  Handmaids. One of them is vastly pregnant; her belly, under her loose  garment, swells triumphantly. There is a shifting in the room, a murmur,  an escape of breath; despite ourselves we turn our heads, blatantly, to  see better; our fingers itch to touch her. She’s a magic presence to  us, an object of envy and desire, we covet her. She’s a flag on a  hilltop, showing us what can still be done: we too can be saved.

    Photograph: Anna and Elena Balbusso

    Striking illustrations from a new edition of Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale:

    As we wait in our double line, the door opens and two more women come in, both in the red dresses and white wings of the Handmaids. One of them is vastly pregnant; her belly, under her loose garment, swells triumphantly. There is a shifting in the room, a murmur, an escape of breath; despite ourselves we turn our heads, blatantly, to see better; our fingers itch to touch her. She’s a magic presence to us, an object of envy and desire, we covet her. She’s a flag on a hilltop, showing us what can still be done: we too can be saved.

    (Source: )

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