Little Gods Book in PDF, ePub and Kindle version is available to download in english. Read online anytime anywhere directly from your device. Click on the download button below to get a free pdf file of Little Gods book. This book definitely worth reading, it is an incredibly well-written.
LONGLISTED FOR THE PEN/OPEN BOOK AWARD “Compellingly complex…Expands the future of the immigrant novel even as it holds us in uneasy thrall to the past.” – Gish Jen, New York Times Book Review Combining the emotional resonance of Home Fire with the ambition and innovation of Asymmetry, a lyrical and thought-provoking debut novel that explores the complex web of grief, memory, time, physics, history, and selfhood in the immigrant experience, and the complicated bond between daughters and mothers. On the night of June Fourth, a woman gives birth in a Beijing hospital alone. Thus begins the unraveling of Su Lan, a brilliant physicist who until this moment has successfully erased her past, fighting what she calls the mind’s arrow of time. When Su Lan dies unexpectedly seventeen years later, it is her daughter Liya who inherits the silences and contradictions of her life. Liya, who grew up in America, takes her mother’s ashes to China—to her, an unknown country. In a territory inhabited by the ghosts of the living and the dead, Liya’s memories are joined by those of two others: Zhu Wen, the woman last to know Su Lan before she left China, and Yongzong, the father Liya has never known. In this way a portrait of Su Lan emerges: an ambitious scientist, an ambivalent mother, and a woman whose relationship to her own past shapes and ultimately unmakes Liya’s own sense of displacement. A story of migrations literal and emotional, spanning time, space and class, Little Gods is a sharp yet expansive exploration of the aftermath of unfulfilled dreams, an immigrant story in negative that grapples with our tenuous connections to memory, history, and self.
'You should do things because they're right. Not because gods say so. They might say something different another time.' Religion is a competitive business in the Discworld. Everyone has their own opinion and their own gods, of every shape and size - all fighting for faith, followers, and a place at the top. So when the great god Om accidentally manifests himself as a lowly tortoise, stripped of all divine power, it's clear he's become less important than he realised. In such instances, you need an acolyte, and fast. Enter Brutha, the Chosen One - or at least the only One available. He wants peace, justice and love - but that's hard to achieve in a world where religion means power, and corruption reigns supreme . . . 'An intriguing satire on institutionalized religion corrupted by power . . .' Independent 'Deftly weaves themes of forgiveness, belief and spiritual regeneration' The Times The Discworld novels can be read in any order but Small Gods is a standalone.
A rare, original and stunning novel about a remarkable girl who learns the hard way that the truth doesn't always set you free - with echoes of Jasper Jones, Seven Little Australians and Cloudstreet. Shortlisted for the 2019 Stella Prize As a child, trapped in the savage act of growing up, Olive had sensed she was at the middle of something, so close to the nucleus she could almost touch it with her tongue. But like looking at her own nose for too long, everything became blurry and she had to pull away. She'd reached for happiness as a child not yet knowing that the memories she was concocting would become deceptive. That memories get you where they want you not the other way around. The setting is the Mallee, wide flat scrubland in north-western Victoria, country where men are bred quiet, women stoic and the gothic is never far away. Olive Lovelock has just turned twelve. She is smart, fanciful and brave and on the cusp of something darker than the small world she has known her entire life. She knows that adults aren't very good at keeping secrets and makes it her mission to uncover as many as she can. When she learns that she once had a baby sister who died - a child unacknowledged by her close but challenging family - Olive becomes convinced it was murder. Her obsession with the mystery and relentless quest to find out what happened have seismic repercussions for the rest of her family and their community. As everything starts to change, it is Olive herself who has the most to lose as the secrets she unearths multiply and take on complicated lives of their own. Little Gods is a novel about the mess of family, about vengeance and innocence lost. It explores resilience and girlhood and questions how families live with all of their complexities and contradictions. Resonating with echoes of great Australian novels like Seven Little Australians, Cloudstreet, and Jasper Jones, Little Gods is told with similar idiosyncrasy, insight and style. Funny and heartbreaking, this is a rare and original novel about a remarkable girl who learns the hard way that the truth doesn't always set you free.
Regina was born and raised in the small town of Heridos, where gods and spirits walked the earth. Until they didn't. Ten years ago, the town's harvest failed utterly, and the people---believing the gods had abandoned them--left their farms and moved on. Now, on a Friday before a long weekend, Regina ends her workday at an office in Makati, and walks home with a new colleague, Diana. Following a strange and disturbing conversation between them, Diana does not show up at work on Monday, nor Tuesday, nor Wednesday. On Thursday, Regina finds a folded piece of paper In her bag. In Diana's handwriting are two names and a strange map that will send Regina back to her hometown. Here, in her quest to find Diana, she encounters rumors of genetic experiments, stumbles upon a strange facility that no one seems to know about, finds herself in places that don't exist, and discovers that people are not who they seem to be. And the biggest question in the bizarre chain of events is not what, or how, but why? Wounded Little Gods is a tale that brings mythology to a sci-fi thriller that's filled with a sense of place--a place where gods are in many ways human and point to the ways in which humans can be inhumane. As Regina struggles to unwind the knots surrounding the mystery of this facility and the people connected to it. She discovers that she is more intertwined in the strange events in her hometown than she ever knew.
Little Olympians 1: Zeus, God of Thunder by A.I. Newton Pdf
Little gods, big personalities! This brand-new series follows little versions of the Greek gods who are at a camp to learn how to control their powers and use them properly--as well as learn to get along with one another. Zeus is living with his parents, Kronos and Rhea, and he's starting to show his abilities, but his lightning is out of control! Every time he sneezes or gets mad, or is even just plain bored, his lightning shoots out. He tries to keep it under wraps most of the time, but he can't help it, and it causes such a ruckus that his parents decide that it's time he learns to properly use his powers. So they send him to Eureka, a camp where little gods learn to use and control their supernatural abilities. He's excited to be able to learn to use his powers here, but he's also nervous about going and meeting all the other gods. Apollo and Ares in particular seem very strong (and they let him know it), but he finds friends in the calm and wise Athena and the wisecracking Hermes. But after some trouble with classes, he starts to get discouraged. Will he be able to control his powers with the help of his friends?
"Triumphant . . . as heartwarming as it is beautifully written." —Michael Schaub, NPR From the acclaimed author of Girlchild, this gritty, irreverent novel sees a young misfit grow into hope Unsinkable and wrecked by grief, motherless and aimless and looking for connection, Helen Dedleder is a girl with a gift she doesn't want to use and a pack of friends who are all just helping each other get by. So cut off from the rest of the world that even the internet is blocked (never mind traffic in and out), Rosary, California, is run by evangelicals but was named by Catholics. It’s a town on very formal relations with its neighbors, one that boasts an oil refinery as well as a fairly sizable population of teenagers. For Helen and her gang of misfits, the tire yard, sex, and beer help pass the days until they turn eighteen and leave town. Her best friends, Win and Rainbolene, late arrivals to Rosary, are particularly keen to depart—Rain because she’ll finally be able to get the hormones she needs to fully become herself. Watching over them is Aunt Bev, an outcast like the kids, who runs the barely tolerated Psychic Encounter Shoppe and tries to keep Helen connected to her own psychic talents—a gift passed down from her mother. Tensions are building, though, in every way. Threats against the Psychic Encounter Shoppe become serious actions. One of the kids gets in trouble, and then another. And Helen can see some things before they happen, but somehow can't see the most important things happening right in front of her. Tupelo Hassman's gods with a little g bursts and splinters with flawed, lovable characters whose haphazard investigations into each others's hearts will reshape your understanding of trust, how to build a family, and how to make a future you can see.
Outside the windows of this quiet country house lay the lean fields of New England, soberly beautiful enough in their fading autumnal colorings, but somehow yielding no inspiration—forgive the pretentious and convenient word—no inspiration for my pen.
Man, from his earliest days, has been intellectually curious about an unknown source that caused and controlled every happening that he witnessed or experienced. In his earnest quest, he made his greatest discovery: the celestial Gods and the Super God. Alas, he missed the abounding 'Little Gods', through whom he could have reached the heavenly Godhead, effortlessly. An exceptionally moving and unforgettable narrative, presented in the noblest language as acceptable even for the younger ones....Reesha S J. Exquisite writing.... for the young and old, of all ages....Rina Otter most suited for largesse to your loved ones....E.Lingarkar.
Everything is decided today not by presidents, not by autocrats, not by dictators, but by money. People don’t think they have the flu, but they do care about their health. Because today, every person is God. Everyone thinks they are God because they have money. No one recognizes any authority. Because the elite has disappeared. Nationalism is the first egalitarian idea, to people dream of being oligarchs and stop respecting real nobility. How to get back the real elite?
The Little Gods: A Masque of the Far East by Rowland Thomas Pdf
For the life of me, as I was sitting here this sunny, late-October morning, I could not write, a distressing condition, truly, for one who lives by writing. Outside the windows of this quiet country house lay the lean fields of New England, soberly beautiful enough in their fading autumnal colorings, but somehow yielding no inspiration—forgive the pretentious and convenient word—no inspiration for my pen. All around me my neighbors were busy; soberly engaged, each man of them, in safe-guarding himself, his body, soul, and his possessions, against the accidents of life and death. They too, somehow, failed to inspire that sluggish bit of pointed gold. Neither do your sober neighbors, friend, as I think of them. In all essentials they might be my own. For we are all a care-worn people, we of this young West, moving always circumspectly, hedging ourselves round with a tenfold wall against surprises, with creeds and codes and philosophies innumerable, all warranted Hell-proof and Heaven-kissing. We count him wisest who lives and loves and dies most by rule. And the rule is that rule of our Tory Grecian forbears, “Never too much.” “We may be a wise people and a happy people,” said I to myself, “but we are quite too prudent to be counted young, in anything but years.” And so that bit of gold hung uninspired as when it left the shop. It waited for livelier, more zestful topics than the daily grind of sober middle age. Then all at once, it seemed, familiar voices called to me from that East we deem so old, and I was back there. A street stretched beneath me, such a street as only the Far East knows, and there only in one enchanted city. It was a wide street, and a long one, all aquiver with hot, stinging sunlight. It was walled with solid, four-square houses, and above them roofs and pinnacles rose in a hundred fantastic, airy shapes for which our Western architecture has no names, and the fronts of the houses flashed with decorations of barbaric red and gold. The street flamed with them. And all down the spacious, sun-flooded length of it, filling it from brim to brim, like a river, poured a current of tumultuous life. From out the crowd eyes met mine, just as they used to do. Eyes of men intent on conquest, of goods, perhaps, or power, or pleasure, the eyes of men who sought, not soberly. Mocking, inviting, smiling, fathomless, straightforward eyes of women, who, forgetting, or unknowing Heaven and Hell, still knew that they were women, mistresses of a woman’s joys and sorrows. Eyes of losers at the game, unhopeful but uncowed. Thousands of eyes glanced up at me, and not one solitary pair of them were like the eyes that look out soberly from your neighbor’s head, or mine. As my eyes questioned theirs, it seemed to me again, just as it used to do, that there in the old East, where life began, it still throbs most strongly, tingles most with the hot blood of youth; that there men, eternally young, are still most unafraid, grasp with least hesitation all life offers them, and accept the outcome of their choice with most sincerity. As I was thinking that, it seemed to me that I went down into the life and stinging sunshine of the street, and mingled with it, till at last my steps led me down an alley and across a drawbridge that spanned a green and pestilential moat, and I approached the low gateway of a gray Walled City which was old when History was young. I passed under the cavern of the gate—and my feet rang on the worn flagstones as I passed—and came into a narrow street between low, sombre houses without windows, and so presently to a temple which in that city bears an unpleasant reputation. Not that scandal hangs about it—it takes Christian tongues to make libertines and guzzlers of Christian priests. But it is said that for some few centuries experiments in—in Psychical Research, let us say—have been going on in that old temple of Tzin Piaôu, with results that are not always reassuring to a lay beholder. I was in too careless a mood to care for that, that morning, and the porter let me pass, barbarian that I was, and I crossed the great courtyard and came to a little cell built in the thickness of the walls. Inside the cell I saw an old, old man, a priest, though but a heathen one, half reclining on a hollowed slab of stone. He was a very gaunt old man, but a very tall and strong one, and his face was like a mask of yellow parchment, seamed with a multitude of tiny wrinkles, and his eyes were two slits set slantwise in it. But as he heard my step and looked up, they widened, and the spark of a smile glimmered in them. “It is you again, my son?” said that old heathen priest to me in greeting, though I did not remember having seen him before that day. “What is it now?” Suddenly I knew why I had come. “My father,” I said, though he was but a heathen, “I want to see Life through your eyes.” He looked into me, and through me, and beyond me into vacancy, and as he looked the spark of laughter in his eyes danced, and flickered up into a tiny fire. “You are older now,” said he. “Sit down. I will tell you first of the Game of the Little Gods, and then you shall see Life through my eyes.” “The Little Gods?” I asked, squatting on the floor. It was the only seat he had to offer me. “The Great God,” my heathen priest explained, unheeding me and smiling into vacancy, “the Great God created us men in his own image—and soon found us, as objects of His constant contemplation, distinctly wearisome. If He could have laughed, it would not have mattered much, but Amusement is beneath the ken of a Great God. Therefore our inconsistencies, our pettinesses, our hopeless contradictions, quickly wearied Him, as they would us if we had to take them seriously, forever. And so,” drawled my heathen tutor, “the Great God, at last, in self-defense, created some Little Gods to take charge of the everyday affairs of men. So far as they are Gods, of course, these Little Gods are Eternal and Impartial, far raised above Love and Aversion, Pity and Scorn, Admiration and Derision, and all our other small emotions. To them all things are equal. But so far as they are Little, and not Great, they are capable of Amusement. And so,” said he, “those lucky Little Gods while away Eternity by playing games, wherein we men are counters. But we men too,” he added, smiling through me into vacancy, “if we are wise, can gain amusement by looking on at the games we’re part of.” “I,” said I, “have never noticed anything which looked like games—” “No?” he said, half mockingly. “You never watched a strong man strive his utmost and grasp at last what he strove for, a handful of ashes and dry leaves? Never saw a woman love with all her heart, till she broke it, loving? Never saw Tragedy or Comedy or Farce wherein the players were not actors? Have all Life’s contradictions—” “But they’ve always taught me,” I objected, “that in those seeming contradictions, an inscrutable Wisdom was working for the ultimate good of those—” “My son,” said my old heathen priest, stretching his old legs out on his stony slab, “go and see for yourself. This is the hour when I take one of my naps. See for yourself.”...FROM THE BOOKS.
The beloved debut novel about an affluent Indian family forever changed by one fateful day in 1969, from the author of The Ministry of Utmost Happiness NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER • MAN BOOKER PRIZE WINNER Compared favorably to the works of Faulkner and Dickens, Arundhati Roy’s modern classic is equal parts powerful family saga, forbidden love story, and piercing political drama. The seven-year-old twins Estha and Rahel see their world shaken irrevocably by the arrival of their beautiful young cousin, Sophie. It is an event that will lead to an illicit liaison and tragedies accidental and intentional, exposing “big things [that] lurk unsaid” in a country drifting dangerously toward unrest. Lush, lyrical, and unnerving, The God of Small Things is an award-winning landmark that started for its author an esteemed career of fiction and political commentary that continues unabated.
God's Little Devotional Book for Boys by Anonim Pdf
This wonderful devotional book targets children, ages 8-12, and is filled with fun stories, powerful Scriptures, and principles that will guide them for their entire lives.
'Just because you can't explain it, doesn't mean it's a miracle.' In the beginning was the Word. And the Word was: 'Hey, you!' This is the Discworld, after all, and religion is a controversial business. Everyone has their own opinion, and indeed their own gods, of every shape and size, and all elbowing for space at the top. In such a competitive environment, it's certainly not helpful to be reduced to appearing in the form of a tortoise, a manifestation far below god-like status in anyone's book. In such instances, you need an acolyte, and fast: for the Great God Om, Brutha the novice is the Chosen One – or at least the only One available. He wants peace and justice and brotherly love. He also wants the Inquisition to stop torturing him now, please... Now adapted into graphic novel form with new artwork by Ray Friesen.
"Everyone can use a little inspiration, a little reminder of what is truly good, moral and just. God's Little Devotional Book provides just that! These devotionals--linked to pithy quotations and also to verses from the Bible--are short and easy-to-read... but no less meaningful.You'll find anecdotes, illustrations and stories that make you laugh, challenge you to think, and in some cases, touch the soft spot in your heart. As one reader has said, "Some of these hit me right between the eyes... and others caused tears to come to my eyes." Either way, this book promises you an expanded vision and new insights. And because the devotionals are tied to the external truth of God's Word, they also will help build in you excellence of character and strength in integrity.God's Little Devotional Book is for readers of all ages, in all circumstances of life, in all professions. These devotionals are ones to which every person can relate, and from which every person can draw encouragement. They'll add meaning to your day with truth, even as they brighten your day with hope! Share them with your children. Share them with a friend. They're guaranteed to offer a road map to succeed in the daily journey of life.
