TERROR, POLICIAL Y SUSPENSO

MISS PEREGRINE S HOME FOR PECULIAR CHILDREN

RANSOM RIGGS

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Sinopsis

The story of a boy who follows some clues that lead him to an abandoned orphanage. A mysterious island.

 An abandoned orphanage.

 A strange collection of very curious photographs.

 It all waits to be discovered in Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children, an unforgettable novel that mixes fiction and photography in a thrilling reading experience. As our story opens, a horrific family tragedy sets sixteen-year-old Jacob journeying to a remote island off the coast of Wales, where he discovers the crumbling ruins of Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children. As Jacob explores its abandoned bedrooms and hallways, it becomes clear that the children were more than just peculiar. They may have been dangerous. They may have been quarantined on a deserted island for good reason. And somehow—impossible though it seems—they may still be alive. 
 A spine-tingling fantasy illustrated with haunting vintage photography, Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children will delight adults, teens, and anyone who relishes an adventure in the shadows.

Año de publicación:2011

3 reseñas sobre el libro MISS PEREGRINE S HOME FOR PECULIAR CHILDREN

Me encantó es una super historia


Reconozco que la portada no me habría hecho leer este libro (creo que Stephen King se ha encargado de montar cierta reticencia en mí a tomar libros que me inspiren terror aunque en realidad lo amo)… pero volviendo al tema, este libro me hablaba de terror desde el gris de la tapa hasta las fotos vintage que recorren el libro con un aire muy Kafkiano ¿pero puedo definirlo así? No, en realidad puedo decir que es un libro un tanto underground, original y que me trae más bien reminiscencias de “Alicia y el país de las maravillas” pero mezclado con algo de uan ciencia ficción muy mal fundamentada. Me ha gustado su estética en general y el ritmo de la narración que va muy de la mano con el estilo alternativo, aunque también tengo mis peros en relación a cómo he “visto” a Jacob dentro de la historia, de una edad bastante menor a los 15 años que dice tener y al desarrollo de los personajes que también se mantienen poco detallados para el submundo que debe comprenderse a través de la nebulosa de la historia. No es un género que lea por voluntad propia, quizá porque prefiero aquellas narraciones que me sacuden las emociones de manera más directa… sin embargo debo dar una buena calificación al libro, ha sido trabajado literariamente con buen tino, y resulta un referente excelente para un género orientado a la fantasía oscura.


Pudo tener las 5 si la lectura no hubiera estado tan lenta. Aún así me encantó el libro y pienso leerme los otros 3.


Más del autor RANSOM RIGGS


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Frases de MISS PEREGRINE S HOME FOR PECULIAR CHILDREN

She moved to pinch me again but I blocked her hand. I'm not expert on girls, but when one tries to pinch you four times, I'm pretty sure that's flirting.

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It was as if the constance of their lives here, the unvarying days -this perpetual deathless summer- had arrested their emotions as well as their bodies[...]

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How could I possibly stay here and leave behind everything I'd known? But after all I learned, how could I go home?

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But why not? If I never went home, what exactly would I be missing? I pictured my cold cavernous house, my friendless town full of bad memories, the utterly unremarkable life that had been mapped out for me. It had never once occurred to me, I realized, to refuse it.

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They were orphans of war, washed up on that little island in a tide of blood. What made them amazing wasn't that they had miraculous powers; that they had escaped the ghettos and gas chambers was miracle enough.

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I thought of everything I was about to leave behind -my parents, my town, my once-best-and-only-friend - and I realized that leaving wouldn't be like I had imagined, like casting off a weight. Their memory was something tangible and heavy, and I would carry it with me.

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I used to dream about escaping my ordinary life, but my life was never ordinary. I had simply failed to notice how extraordinary it was.

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[...] and I tried to remember what my life had been like in that unfathomably distant era that was four weeks ago, or imagine what it might be like four weeks from now -but I couldn't.

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You can get sick of anything if you have too much of it.

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The reality of her words filtered through, and the tingly magic of what had just happened between us numbed out.

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She took my hands and looked at me, and I looked back. It was almost more intense than kissing, the just looking.

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And then we were kissing. The profoundness of our lips touching and our tongues pressing and my hand cupping her perfect white cheek barred any thoughts of right or wrong or any memory of why I had followed her there in the first place.

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I listened for the voice in my head telling me not to kiss her, but it had gone silent.

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Besides, there was the way she beamed at me, smiling with her whole self, and how a coy gesture like tucking her hair back could make me want to follow her, help her, do anything she asked. I was hopelessly outmatched.

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I held up the phone and took her picture. She just shook her head, as if nothing about my bizarre world could surprise her anymore.

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