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Taps : a novel /

by Morris, Willie.
Material type: materialTypeLabelBookPublisher: Boston : Houghton Mifflin, 2001Description: 340 p. ; 24 cm.ISBN: 0618098593 :.Title notes: $26.00 6-2001Subject(s): Korean War, 1950-1953 -- Participation, American -- Fiction | Teenage boys -- Fiction | Delta (Miss. : Region) -- Fiction | Mississippi -- Fiction | Bildungsromans
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Item type Home library Collection Shelving location Call number Status Date due Barcode
Books Books Altadena Main Library
Adult Collection Adult Fiction FIC MOR Available 39270002130858

Enhanced descriptions from Syndetics:

The final work by one of America's most beloved authors, TAPS returns to the stretch of southern delta that Willie Morris made famous with his award-winning classic NORTH TOWARD HOME and the enormously popular tales of his inimitable dog Skip. Morris said he put everything he knew into this novel, and the result is the crowning achievement of his career -- a tender, powerful, very American story about the vanishing beauty of the South and the fleeting boyhood of a young man coming of age in a time of war.<br> <br> It is 1951 when sixteen-year old Swayze Barksdale watches the young men of Fisk's Landing, Mississippi, march off to a faraway place called Korea. Too young to serve overseas, Swayze is soon called to unexpected duty at home: a local boy is an early casualty of the war, and Swayze is enlisted to play "Taps" at his graveside. Gradually, Swayze begins to pace his life around these all too frequent funerals, where his horn sounds the tragic note of the times.<br> <br> Still, life in Fisk's Landing goes on, with its comforting rhythms, hilarious mishaps, moments of pure joy. Young love blossoms, age-old hatreds flare. A cast of eccentric characters help shepherd Swayze into adulthood and teach him what it means to be a patriot, a son, a lover, a friend. Ultimately, when "Taps" is played for someone he holds very dear, Swayze learns what it means to be man.<br> <br> Wonderfully assured, infinitely wise, TAPS showcases Willie Morris at his most accomplished and resonant, as he takes readers on one last fictional journey through his South, a place as familiar to him "as water or grass or sunlight." Sure to be an instant classic, TAPS is a beautiful, unforgettable story about ordinary people whose lives proceed with the same inevitability as the seasons until day is done.

$26.00 6-2001

Excerpt provided by Syndetics

<opt> <anon I1="BLANK" I2="BLANK">Luke Cartwright became for me a harbinger of death in that year. It was an ambient evening of early summer when he first came by my house. My mother was at a bridge tournament at the country club and would be late, and I was relishing the solitude from her injunctions. Earlier it had rained, and the trees arched in shadowy silhouettes, darkly green now before the coming of the heat, dripping with moisture in the cooling breeze. The hills began only a hundred yards from the house, and the whole earth sang with crickets and other nocturnal things. Soon the DDT truck came by, spraying for the season's first mosquitoes, known and acknowledged as the largest and most aggressive in Christendom, or so we believed. I heard the wheeze of a motor at the front curb. I looked up and saw Luke Cartwright stepping out of his red pickup truck with its high boxed rectangular cabin and a black cat sprawled on his dashboard. I stood to greet him. He was in khaki trousers and a metallic blue sports shirt that glowed under the streetlamp. From a few feet away a frog jumped in an arc and landed with a whish. "Ain't you a little old to be barefoot in your front yard in the middle of the night? How old are you, anyway?" "Sixteen, almost." "That's old enough." I had never thought of it that way, if indeed I had considered it at all. Does the only child -- the solitary son of a widowed and indomitable mother fraught with an inordinate propensity for intrusion -- dwell on age? Especially when she teaches tap dancing? Survival, perhaps, although I would not have used the word then -- nor escape nor improvisation nor even loneliness. Old enough for what? "I hear you play the trumpet in the band. And you're good." "Only pretty good," I replied. "Can you play 'Taps'?" Copyright (c) 2001 by JoAnne Prichard Morris and David Rae Morris Excerpted from Taps: A Novel by Willie Morris All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.</anon> </opt>

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