Thornhill

Product Information

This is no horror in the classic sense of the word. Its true horror lies not within the paranormal or gothic elements of it, but in the experiences of the main characters, in the world they were born in, in the reverberations of everything they do to each other and to themselves, in the glaring implacability of an all too familiar vicious cycle. Pam lives in Cambridge with her husband, author-illustrator Dave Shelton, and her child,Mila. Most early mornings you’ll see her walking her dog, Barney, along All Souls’ Lane into thegraveyard, past Frances Cornford’s poem, the hidden pillbox and around the field beyond all ofwhich inspired the setting and story for The Hideaway. Through these topics, and the Gothic atmosphere the British author imbues her illustrations with, Thornhill is a deeply sad novel that transmits a crippling feeling of hopelessness, sadness, despair, and, above all, of loneliness. In a crescendo of emotions, Thornhill reaches its peak in an outburst of desperation, very reminiscent of Stephen King’s Carrie —even if Mary’s outburst is rather futile. In any case, in the end, when both timelines collide, Mary finds what she had missed throughout her entire life: a friend who loves her for who she is. The end transmits a crystal-clear metaphor: neglect has its consequences and even if the victim of it will not end up alone, it will scar their existence for life —and death.

Maybe I imagined that everyone seemed to go quiet when Jane and I walked into the dining hall this morning. I felt completely stupid walking beside her as she chatted in the slightly overchirpy, overenthusiastic way of hers. Everyone must have known she had made me come down. I felt their eyes following us as we wove through the dining hall tables and up to Kathleen at the kitchen hatch. I kept my eyes down and didn't look at any of them. I knew my face was burning red, but I felt the usual cold fear all over. She was there in the room. I could feel her eyes on me. Kathleen gave me a smile and a wink as I loaded toast onto my plate with a shaking hand. En esencia, es una lectura muy recomendable, con una bonita y cuidada edición que se disfruta pero que puede que a los que tengamos muchas lecturas en las espaldas se nos quede un poco "coja" en cuanto a trama. Igualmente lo guardaré como oro en paño para que en unos años nuestras hijas puedan disfrutar de este tétrico cuento. And from up here I overlook the houses where the real people, the regular people, live. Sometimes I watch them sleepily opening their curtains in the mornings, heaving out their garbage bags in their bathrobes, letting out their cats, feeding the birds. In the summer they have friends round and there's noisy laughter and tinkling glasses in the gardens, and on hot days I watch the squealing children splashing in wading pools or squabbling over tricycles. You know, regular, real people with regular, real families. Of course, sometimes that is all a bit much and I have to shut them out too. Add onto that, what was that ending? I'm probably in the minority here, but I absolutely despised how everything tii just don’t understood the story overall. there seemed to be something “off” throughout, to characters and their motivations. kathleen seems to be genuinely concerned about mary, but then she’s all - hooray, a cruise 4 me!, sending a doctor as a consolation prize but surely knowing that mary isn’t suddenly going to break her vow of silence for some strange man. and jane and pete merrily going on their way, leaving troubled and straight-up vicious little girls all alone? etc etc. Wow! Look at these new puppets! They're really fab, Mary! There are quite a few new ones since I was up here last." I often wonder what my life would be like without my puppets. I think about the other girls who don't have a passion for making or imagining and wonder what they do with their time. I wonder if they are bored. I am never bored. I am learning all the time, not just about different types of puppets from around the world or in history, but about the making of small bodies and figures and clothes and hair and eyes and shoes. And I love that I am surrounded by the things I have made. They sit on shelves above my bed, on my bookcase, suspended from the ceiling, balanced on my windowsill — my puppets are like friends that sit and keep me company. They watch me as I make their companions or add new ideas and designs to my sketchbook. I think that some people would find it creepy having all these little eyes watching them — but I don't. When I go into the dining hall and see all those old photos of the unnamed girls who have lived here over the last hundred years, all lined up in ghostly groups — that's scary. But my dolls are my comfort. In some way, even though I am often on my own, with my puppets about me, I don't feel so alone.

Atmospheric and emotional in an understated way... Beautiful, moody, sad, and spooky—all at once."— Kirkus, starred review I must have had a look on my face because she hurriedly added, "I know you haven't been able to settle anywhere yet, Mary — but that's different. People find the quietness unsettling, that's all. One day there'll be someone special who doesn't expect you to be jabbering on all the time and you'll have a proper home, better than this creaking old place." It's likely that Ella's character/storyline wasn't intended for a similar weightage, but that is what I wanted from the book anyway and that is what hindered my enjoyment to some degree. An] intriguing ghost story with an ending that chills to the bone . . . An excellent selection for middle schoolers and reluctant readers.”— School Library Journal

Change Website Language

Tiene un final bastante sorprendente y de esos que erizan los vellos de todo el cuerpo mientras te das cuenta de todo lo que ha sucedido casi sin darte cuenta. Pienso que es un libro que me hubiera gustado más en mi adolescencia básicamente por el vocabulario y estilo narrativo (está encarado a un público joven) pero no me han impedido disfrutarlo. Hay ciertos libros que tienen la capacidad de recoger tus absurdos prejuicios hacia ellos, pisotearlos, darles un par de vueltas, y devolverte tus ideas preconcebidas envueltas en un papel de regalo. Esos libros que no lees porque das por hecho que no estaban escritos para ti, que son simples entretenimientos para chavales sin elevadas ambiciones y que, en definitiva, juzgas sin concederle una mínima oportunidad. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher. A chilling ghost story with a dual narrative told partly in diary entries and partly in atmospheric, wordless sepia illustrations.

La historia está dividida en dos líneas temporales, por un lado el presente que se nos narra mediante las ilustraciones en tonos de gris, donde conoceremos a Ella, que se muda junto a su padre a una casa que colinda con Thornhill. Y el pasado en forma de diario y que transcurre en el año 1982, narrado por Mary Baines sobre lo ocurrido en ese antiguo orfanato para chicas llamado Thornhill. Thornhill was shortlisted for the 2018 Waterstones Children’s Book Prize, and longlisted for the 2018 Kate Greenaway Medal. It's great up here, actually. I am the only girl with my own sink and bathroom. I love having the highest room in the whole building, being able to look up at the topmost branches of the trees outside. I can watch the birds skim past, fast and free. Carefree. Told in alternating, interwoven plotlines—Mary’s through intimate diary entries and Ella’s in bold, striking art—Pam Smy’s Thornhill is a haunting exploration of human connection, filled with suspense.I have spent days and days in bed. I can’t face school. I don’t want to see anyone. I can’t even read.” I have never read a book like this. I was so stunned at the end that I had to take a break from writing a blog about it, to absorb the message and the story. This is not a book for the faint hearted. In 1982 a girl called Mary is living in Thornhill, a troubled and largely un-governed orphanage; it is her diary we are reading, and uncomfortable reading it is. It tells us a story of intense psychological bullying, the sort inflicted by irrepairably damaged children that goes unnoticed by adults. Anyone who has had experience of bullying at school knows full-well that children can be cruel, adults can be both stupid and disbelieving, and that damaged people actively and furtively seek out possibilities to damage other people. Through her diary we watch the tragic story of Mary progress. She seeks peace by creating beautiful creatures; with infinite care and attention she makes little dolls, finely-crafted little figures, often characters from her favourite books. To the rest of the world she utters not a word, Mary is a selective mute.

Table by table groups of girls went out too. I watched them go until I was the only one left in the dining hall. Just me and Kathleen, who had watched the whole performance through the hatch. an oddly liminal book: somewhere in-between novel and graphic novel, somewhere in-between YA and middle grade, somewhere in-between me liking it and me being indifferent towards it.A book between two worlds, Thornhill by Pam Smy is a stunningly balanced mixture between an epistolary novel and a graphic novel. Being, first and foremost, an illustrator for the most of her career, Pam Smy is well-versed in the transmission of feelings through images. But with Thornhill, where she found her written voice for the first time, she also proved that both image and words are powerful tools alike when she gets her hands on them. Thornhill is a very strong story, but the way in which it is told is eloquent and creative. It doesn't take very long to read, I got through it in less than two hours, but afterwards it lingered in my mind. I read it again and then again. I recommend this most highly for young readers and adults alike, though the Gaiman fans will undoubtedly love it especially those that have read Coraline or The Graveyard Book.