The Stone Diaries: 15th Anniversary Edition (Penguin Classics Deluxe Edition)
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In celebration of the fifteenth anniversary of its original publication, Carol Shields's Pulitzer Prize-winning novel is now available in a Penguin Classics Deluxe Edition
One of the most successful and acclaimed novels of our time, this fictionalized autobiography of Daisy Goodwill Flett is a subtle but affecting portrait of an everywoman reflecting on an unconventional life. What transforms this seemingly ordinary tale is the richness of Daisy's vividly described inner life--from her earliest memories of her adoptive mother to her awareness of impending death.
“Well.” “Well water! Personally, I find him ravishing. And, secretly, I think you do too.” “Hmmmm.” Alice does not find Reverend Rick ravishing; she knows the type. She greets him coldly, almost rudely when he turns up one day at Canary Palms, and then she makes a point of disappearing, leaving him alone to chat with her mother. Mrs. Flett understands, without being told, that Alice wants only to protect her from evangelical coercion, from this room-to-room peddler of guilt-wrapped wares.
mother how she feels. Her mother, Daisy Goodwill, is still alive inside her failing body. Up and down, good days, bad days. She’s doing as well as can be expected, that’s what everyone keeps saying. She could go on like this for years. CHAPTER TEN Death DAISY (GOODWILL) FLETT Peacefully, on—, in the month of—in the year 199—at Canary Palms Rest Home, Sarasota, Florida, after a long illness patiently borne. “Grandma” Flett was predeceased by her husband, Barker Flett, a respected Canadian
these years as if she were her own child—doted on her, in fact. You will agree, I am sure, that it is not in any way desirable for a young girl of eleven years to share a household with a man of my circumstances who has neither a wife nor the means to engage a person who would look after her needs. In any case, it seems I must leave Winnipeg very soon in order to pursue my work with the Dominion Cerealist and his committee in Ottawa. Will you be kind enough to write me the full expression of your
actually have spoken to her husband, Magnus, about a week away in the city. The words would have come forward—while she was engaged in some ordinary task, drying the supper dishes or taking the dead leaves off the fuchsia that hung by the window. Her husband was not a man who wasted words, but the two of them had managed over the years the simple, necessary marital commerce required for the rearing of three sons, for the ordering of supplies, the discussions concerning weather, illness, what
anyone seemed to be out and about. Of course it was early in the day. Of course there was a fierce wind blowing off the sea. Rain pelted down. Despite this, Victoria and her aunt and Lewis Roy were standing in the churchyard at Stromness reading tombstones. It was Victoria, shouting, who discovered: A holy lyf a hapie end The Soul to Christ doth send Where its best To be at rest Magnus Flett, born 1584, died 1616 For some reason this inscription made all three of them double over with