By Sara Gruen
4.1
2007 BookBrowse Award winner for Most Popular Book. An atmospheric, gritty, and compelling novel by Riding Lessons' bestselling author, star-crossed lovers, set in the circus world around 1932. When Jacob Jankowski, recently orphaned and suddenly drifting, jumps onto a passing train, he ente... rs a world of freaks, drifters, and misfits, a second-rate circus struggling to survive during the Great Depression, making one night stand in city after endless city. A veterinary student who has almost earned his degree, Jacob is commissioned to look after the circus menagerie. It is here that he meets the charismatic but twisted animal trainer Marlena, the beautiful young star of the equestrian act, who is married to August. He also meets Rosie, an elephant who, until he discovers a way to reach her, seems untrainable. Water for Elephants is beautifully written, illuminated with a wonderful sense of time and place. It tells a love story between two people that overcomes unbelievable odds in a world where even love is a luxury that few can afford.
READ MOREAlgonquin books
May 1, 2007
1565125606 , 9781565125605
Kindle Edition
English
369
but it's no use. I m already on my feet. She drags me onto the dance floor, jiving and snapping her fingers. When we're surrounded by other couples she turns to me. I take a deep breath and then take her in my arms. We wait a couple beats and then we're off, floating around the dance floor in a swirling sea of people. She's light as air--doesn't miss a step, and that's a feat considering how clumsy I am. And it's not as though I don't know how to dance, because I do. I don't know what the hell is wrong with me. I'm sure as hell not drunk.
When you are five, you know your age down to the month. Even in your twenties, you know how old you are. I'm twenty-three you say, or maybe twenty-seven. But then in your thirties, something strange starts to happen. It is a mere hiccup at first, an instant of hesitation. How old are you? Oh, I'm--you start confidently, but then you stop. You were going to say thirty-three, but you are not. You're thirty-five. And then you're bothered, because you wonder if this is the beginning of the end. It is, of course, but it's decades before you admit it.
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