Paris discount Trout: outlet online sale A Novel outlet online sale

Paris discount Trout: outlet online sale A Novel outlet online sale

Paris discount Trout: outlet online sale A Novel outlet online sale
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Description

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Pete Dexter’s National Book Award–winning tour de force tells the mesmerizing story of a shocking crime that shatters lives and exposes the hypocrisies of a small Southern town.
 
The time and place: Cotton Point, Georgia, just after World War II. The event: the murder of a fourteen-year-old black girl by a respected white citizen named Paris Trout, who feels he’s done absolutely nothing wrong. As a trial looms, the crime eats away at the social fabric of Cotton Point, through its facade of manners and civility. Trout’s indifference haunts his defense lawyer; his festering paranoia warps his timid, quiet wife; and Trout himself moves closer to madness as he becomes obsessed with his cause—and his vendettas.
 
Praise for Paris Trout
 
“A masterpiece, complex and breathtaking . . . [Pete] Dexter portrays his characters with marvelous sharpness.” Los Angeles Times
 
“A psychological spellbinder that will take your breath away and probably interfere with your sleep.” The Washington Post Book World
 
“Dexter’s brilliant understanding of the Deep South has allowed him to capture much of its essence—its bitter class distinctions, its violence, its strangeness—with a fidelity of detail and an ear for speech that I have rarely encountered since Flannery O’Connor.” —William Styron
 
“Dexter’s powerfully emotional novel doesn’t have any brakes. Hang on, because you won’t be able to stop until the finish.” Chicago Tribune

Review

“A masterpiece, complex and breathtaking . . . [Pete] Dexter portrays his characters with marvelous sharpness.” Los Angeles Times
 
“A psychological spellbinder that will take your breath away and probably interfere with your sleep.” The Washington Post Book World
 
“Dexter’s brilliant understanding of the Deep South has allowed him to capture much of its essence—its bitter class distinctions, its violence, its strangeness—with a fidelity of detail and an ear for speech that I have rarely encountered since Flannery O’Connor.” —William Styron
 
“Dexter’s powerfully emotional novel doesn’t have any brakes. Hang on, because you won’t be able to stop until the finish.” Chicago Tribune

About the Author

Pete Dexter is the author of the National Book Award–winning novel Paris Trout as well as Spooner, Paper Trails, God’s Pocket, Deadwood, Brotherly Love, and Train. He has been a columnist for the Philadelphia Daily News and the Sacramento Bee, and has contributed to many magazines, including Esquire, Sports Illustrated, and Playboy. His screenplays include Rush and Mulholland Falls. Dexter was born in Michigan and raised in Georgia, Illinois, and eastern South Dakota. He lives on an island off the coast of Washington.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

In the spring of that year an epidemic of rabies broke out in Ether County, Georgia. The disease was carried principally by foxes and was reported first by farmers, who, in the months of April and May, shot more than seventy of the animals and turned them in to the county health officer in Cotton Point.
 
The heads were removed, wrapped in plastic, and sent to the state health department in Atlanta, where eleven were found to be rabid.
 
There is no record of human beings’ contracting the disease—the victims for the most part were cattle—although two residents of an outlying area of Cotton Point called Damp Bottoms were reportedly bitten.
 
One of them, an old man known only as Woodrow, was found lying under his house a day later, dead. He was buried by the city in a bare, sun-baked corner of Horn Cemetery without medical tests and without a funeral.
 
The other was a fourteen-year-old girl named Rosie Sayers, who was bothered by nightmares.
 
Rosie Sayers was tall and delicately boned, and her front teeth lay across her lips like sleeping white babies. She was afraid of things she could not see and would not leave the house unless she was forced.
 
The house was flat-roofed and warped. It had five rooms, and the wallboards that defined them were uneven, so you could see through the walls from any of the rooms into the next.
She lived in this house with her mother and her brothers and sisters. There were fourteen of them in all, but Rosie had never counted the number. She had never thought to.
 
The brothers and sisters slept through Rosie’s screams in the night—it was a part of things, like the whistling in her youngest brother’s breathing—but her mother’s visitors, unaccustomed to the girl’s affliction, would sometimes bolt up in bed at the noise, and sometimes they would stumble into their pants in the dark and leave.
 
Her mother called the dreams “spells” and from time to time stuck needles in the child’s back as an exorcism. Usually after one of her visitors had left in the night. Rosie would stand in front of her, bare-backed, allowing it.
 
On the day she was bitten by the fox, Rosie Sayers had been sent into town to buy a box of .22 caliber shells from Mr. Trout. Her mother had a visitor that week who was a sportsman.
 
Mr. Trout kept a store on North Main Street. There was a string on the door that tripped a bell when anyone walked in. Colored people stopped just inside the door and waited for him. White people picked out what they wanted for themselves. There was one light inside, a bare bulb, hanging from a cord in the back.
 
He came out of the dark, it reminded her of a ghost. He glowed tall and white. “What is it?” he said.
 
“Bullets,” she said. The word lost itself in the darkness, the sound of the bell was still in the room.
 
“Speak up, girl.”
 
“Twenty-two bullets,” she said.
 
He turned and ran a long white finger along the shelf behind, and when he came back to her, he was holding a small box. “That’s seventy cent,” he said, and she reached into the tuck of her shirt and found the dollar her mother had given her. It was balled-up and damp, and she smoothed it out before she handed it over.
 
He took the money and made change from his own pocket. Mr. Trout didn’t use a cash register. He put the box of shells in her hand, he didn’t use bags much either. She had never held a box of shells before and was surprised at the weight. He crossed his arms and waited. “I ain’t got forever,” he said.
 
 
SHE WALKED TO THE north end of town and then followed the Georgia Pacific Railroad tracks, east and north, back to the sawmill. Damp Bottom sat behind the mill, built on rose-colored dirt, not a tree to be seen. It made sense to her that trees wouldn’t dare to grow near a sawmill.
 
There was a storage shed between the mill and the houses, padlocked in front and back, with small, dirty windows on the side. Her brothers said there were dead men inside, but she never looked for herself. Rosie’s grandmother had died in bed, her mouth open and contorted, as if that were the route her life took leaving her, and that was all the dead people she ever meant to see.
 
She passed the windows wide, averting her eyes, and when she was safely by and looked in front of herself again, she saw the fox. He was dull red and tired and seemed in some way to recognize her.
 
She stopped cold in her tracks, the fox picked up his head. She took a slow step backwards, and he followed her, keeping the same distance. Then he moved again, closer, and seemed to sway. She heard her own breathing as she backed away.
 
The movement only seemed to draw him; something drew him. “Please, Mr. Fox,” she said, “don’t poison me. I be out of your way, as quick as you seen me, I be gone.”
 
She knew foxes had turned poisonous from her brothers. Worse than a snake. She stopped again, and he stopped with her. Her brothers said when the poison fox bit you, you were poison too.
 
The fox cocked his head, and she began to run. She didn’t know where. Her legs were strong; but before she had gone ten steps, they seemed to tangle in each other, and she was surprised, looking down just before she fell, to see the fox between them. Then she closed her eyes and hit the ground.
 
She never felt the bites. The fox growled—the sound was higher-pitched than a dog, and busier—and then she kicked out with her heels and felt his coat and the bones beneath it. He cried out, and when she kicked again nothing was there.
 
She opened her eyes, and as fast as he had come he was gone.
 
She stood up slowly, collecting her breath, and dusted herself off. She was thorough about it, she didn’t like to be dirty, and it was only when her hand touched the inside of her calf and felt blood that she knew that he had opened her up.
 
She saw the bites then, two small openings on the same leg, closer to her ankle than her knee. The blood wasn’t much and had already dried everywhere except near the tears in the skin. She sat back down on the ground and began to cry. The clay was scorched, but she didn’t feel that either.
 
She cried because she was poisoned.
 
In a few minutes the crying began to hurt her head, and she stood up again, shaky-legged now, afraid her mother would know what had happened. Afraid of what her mother would do.
 
She spit in the palm of her hand and wiped at the blood on her leg, over and over, until her mouth was too dry to spit. Then she rubbed both her hands on the ground, picking up orange-colored dust, and covered her legs and her knees, not to draw attention to the one that was injured.
 
She put dust on her elbows and some on her cheeks and neck. Her mother would be angry, to have her walk into the house dirty when she had a visitor, but she wouldn’t know about the fox.
 
She remembered the visitor.
 
She turned a circle, looking for the box of shells. It was a present for him because he was a sportsman. Her mother said he might shoot them rabbits for supper.
 
The box was gone. She looked all around her and then back toward the shed. She traced her steps past the shed to the spot she had been when she looked up and saw the fox. She searched the ground and the weeds growing around the shed, looking up every few seconds because she was afraid the fox would be there again.
 
The fox was gone, though, and so were the bullets.
 
She stood still and waited, she didn’t know for what. The sun moved in the sky. She stopped crying; the scared feeling passed and left her calm. She wondered if her mother would allow the visitor to whip her.
 
She had done that before.
 
Her thoughts turned again to the bullets and then from the bullets to the place she had gotten them. Mr. Trout wasn’t as frightening now; it felt like he might be glad to see her again. And when she finally moved away, feeling a tightness at first in the leg where the fox had bitten her, it was back in the direction of the store.
 
ROSIE SAYERS COULD NOT tell time, and her sense of it was that it belonged to some people and not to others. All the white people had it, and all the colored people who owned cars. Her mother’s visitors had it, they would mention it when they left. “Lordy, look at the time.…”
 
She worried now that the time had run out for the stores to be open. She hurried her walk, following the railroad tracks. The tracks curved and then fed themselves into a bridge on the edge of town. A train was stopped there, car after car of lumber as far as she could see. The smell of fresh-cut pine.
 
She climbed the embankment to the bridge, using her hands, and when she came to the top the whistle blew, and the cars banged against each other as the slack in their couplings was pulled from the front, and then, together, they began to move slowly up the track.
 
And she watched the train from the top of the hill, standing on the bridge that led to town, and she thought of jumping, down into the dark places between the cars, and being taken in that way to the end of the tracks. And for a moment there seemed to be another person inside her too, someone who wanted to jump.
 
She remembered time then, and the stores and walked away from the train and back into town. She wondered if other people had another person inside them too.

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4.1 out of 54.1 out of 5
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5.0 out of 5 starsVerified Purchase
THE DECADENCE OF SOUTHERN MORALS
Reviewed in the United States on June 20, 2019
This plot isn''t new. The South was a very scary place to live, especially if your skin is Black. Even though this author''s rendition of how Blacks were judged, treated, cheated out of their basic rights as human beings and citizens of the United States. I usually don''t... See more
This plot isn''t new. The South was a very scary place to live, especially if your skin is Black. Even though this author''s rendition of how Blacks were judged, treated, cheated out of their basic rights as human beings and citizens of the United States.
I usually don''t read these types of books, because the anger that boils in my heart at how another person can great others whom they feel are inferior. The condescending descriptive names that are still used when referring to those of the Black race. This plot isn''t made up, it reads as if the author lived in a town such as Cotton Point,
USA..sadly, I only felt for that poor young fourteen year old Rosie, who saw DEATH pointed at her, all she could say was "Lord Jesus" never to wake up again. .The eternal sleep.
Even in death she was given any respect by the white physician or his staff who felt she was nothing as he showed the bullet wounds and a description of what damage those bullets did to that poor child
I know personally how Blacks were treated in those days. I remember traveling with my mother and brother by train(SILVER METER) WE were not allowed to eat in the dining car, so that was why my Mother packed food in a shoe box to take with us. The Black train conductor would come through with warm sodas(cokes) no cups, no ice.
He might have had some sort of sweet cakes, all of these items were presented in a wooden shoe box that later in life I recognized as a box that a shoe shiners used to store their polishes and rags.
Small Southern town''s still carrying these horrible horrid prejudices. The of the Mason Dixie Line it''s there it still raised its ugly tentacles. Paris Trout was an extension of racism personified, that''s taking in White Supremacists, at that time it was the Klu Klux Klan and that was ugly and still ugly.
No sorrow for Paris Trout and his ways. The author''s of defining Paris Trout as crazy and that could define his dark feelings, did he blame his mother for his life style..The bonding between the two..very strange, but unfortunately it happens.
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5.0 out of 5 starsVerified Purchase
Troubled Souls
Reviewed in the United States on June 4, 2019
This is the story of a small town in Georgia right after the end of World War II.The main character is a warped man, a deeply troubled man by the name of Paris Trout. Like a trout leaping briefly into the light, Trout''s descent into darkness sends out troubling ripples... See more
This is the story of a small town in Georgia right after the end of World War II.The main character is a warped man, a deeply troubled man by the name of Paris Trout. Like a trout leaping briefly into the light, Trout''s descent into darkness sends out troubling ripples impacting all touched by his life.

Those who live on the fringes of the community,segregated by their skin color, are in some cases the purest of souls who people this Southern town. One in particular, a maid known as Miss Mary, shines forth as a person with a loving heart who rescues an abused, abandoned girl named Rose. In part due to the actions of Mary''s oldest son, a murder and wounding is triggered.

Trout and his partner in crime, a brutal ex-cop who hates black people, are brought to trial certain that they will not be convicted by the white people in a southern town. Enter two lawyers, one who tries to defend Trout and a second who handles the divorce action begun by the abused, troubled Mrs. Trout. Both lawyees have marital problems with one lawyer''s adultery leading to gratuitously graphic sex scenes.

Eventually Trout, on the verge of a much delayed jail sentence for bribery, acts out in violent fashion the climax of the story as the town joyfully celebrates its 150th anniversary. The novel then descends into an anticlimactic tying up of loose ends.

This novel won the National Book Award evidently for its sensitive portrayal of postwar racial relations. Additionally the author created a compelling story peopled with multi-faceted characters. Its realism is convincing, though the warped personality of the lead character is believable mainly in light of mental.health issues liberally laced with the taint of evil. Ironically, early in the story the mother of little Rose casts her out because she is"possessed by the devil,," setting into motion Rose''s tragic confrontation with Trout who far more accurately fits that description.

A wortwhile read.
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Len Joy
5.0 out of 5 starsVerified Purchase
Loathsome character, compelling story
Reviewed in the United States on June 24, 2019
Paris Trout is a loathsome character. He shoots and kills a 14 year old black girl for no reason. Not a crime of passion, but more chillingly a crime of indifference. She’s simply in the way when he tries to collect his debt so he shoots her. Well-drawn novel villains... See more
Paris Trout is a loathsome character. He shoots and kills a 14 year old black girl for no reason. Not a crime of passion, but more chillingly a crime of indifference. She’s simply in the way when he tries to collect his debt so he shoots her. Well-drawn novel villains often have some, if not redeeming qualities, at least qualities that make them seem more human. They love their children or their dog. Or they have some charming roguishness. Paris Trout has none of that. If he had a dog, he would beat it. He simply has no redeeming qualities. It is a testimony to Dexter’s writing skill, that even in all his loathsomeness, Paris Trout is still a compelling character.

However, if this were simply the story of a racist sociopath it would be hard to endure and probably not worth reading. Definitely not National Book Award worthy. But it is, of course, much more.

We see the story of Paris Trout unfold from not only his perspective, but from the point of view of the girl he killed, his lawyer, his wife, the prosecution and a host of supporting characters.

Dexter creates what feels like a very realistic feeling portrait of redneck Georgia in the early 1950s. It feels honest, not patronizing or apologetic. Paris Trout: A Novel, is at times an uncomfortable reading experience, but worthwhile. Highly recommended.
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E. R. Blair
5.0 out of 5 starsVerified Purchase
A definite Must Read
Reviewed in the United States on June 29, 2021
I rarely come across a book I simply cannot put down, in spite of what reviews may claim. But Paris Trout had me spellbound from the beginning. The book takes us on a path showing us a terrible man; I try not to use the word evil, but I am tempted here. We then see his... See more
I rarely come across a book I simply cannot put down, in spite of what reviews may claim. But Paris Trout had me spellbound from the beginning. The book takes us on a path showing us a terrible man; I try not to use the word evil, but I am tempted here. We then see his initially just stubborn and enigmatic behavior and how it affects the people around him, then watch as he slowly crumbles and descends, dragging everyone he comes into contact with into his own personal yet eerily familiar hell.
The book takes place in mid-1950s Georgia. I was a very young child at that time, and in Texas, but to me this author captures the southern small town rhythm and feel better than any author I have ever read except Harper Lee.
We''ve become accustomed to contemplating the kind of madness that afflicted Paris Trout, but in this book, as now, it is impossible to truly enter the mind of someone like him. Ultimately we come to know and care about the numerous other characters in his orbit while having to simply watch in anticipatory horror as Trout wreaks his havoc on all of them.
The themes of race and gender, hate and bigotry run through the whole book, as do the nuances and trade-offs, repressions and shallownesses that are ever present in small towns, no matter the time or place.
This book is not for the faint of heart, but even if you have no feel for the time or place, you are sure to be moved greatly.
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Thomas Lawry
3.0 out of 5 starsVerified Purchase
Plotting and interesting characters were outstanding....but result to me was empty
Reviewed in the United States on July 4, 2021
As I was reading this book. I thought it was five star quality. The plotting was compelling, and the main characters were vividly drawn and I was eager to see how they developed...but they did not. Paris Trout is just evil, but we never really know why. The surviving... See more
As I was reading this book. I thought it was five star quality. The plotting was compelling, and the main characters were vividly drawn and I was eager to see how they developed...but they did not. Paris Trout is just evil, but we never really know why. The surviving shooting victim was very sympathetic...but she just disappeared from the book. The two attorneys, Paris'' wife...we never find out in any meaningful way how events change them.

As big a problem is the gratuitous sex and violence. That Paris abused his wife is consistent, at least with what little we know about him...but the graphic sexual violence against his wife, which is just presented as some sort of tour de force and then mostly dropped, seemed unnecessary. As did the graphic sex between Seagraves and Paris'' wife which was also pretty unconnected to the rest of the story, it seemed to have no purpose other than to sensationalize the story. And then the end....just wipe everyone out....because you do not know what to do with the characters (?).

This could have been a great book. There was no lack of imagination or descriptive power, but it was as if the author just wanted to destroy what he had created, he did not know what to do with it.
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Susan Vrabel-Williams
5.0 out of 5 starsVerified Purchase
Brilliant!
Reviewed in the United States on July 26, 2021
It''s been so long since I have read this book, I''d forgotten what it was about. It didn''t take me long to remember, but the details were fuzzy. This is an extraordinary tale of the deep South, set in the 1950s. There''s rampant racism, class privilege, corruption,... See more
It''s been so long since I have read this book, I''d forgotten what it was about. It didn''t take me long to remember, but the details were fuzzy.
This is an extraordinary tale of the deep South, set in the 1950s. There''s rampant racism, class privilege, corruption, murder, adultery and greed. But it''s also an extremely touching story, with a poor black girl being murdered by the title character, although Paris Trout tells that he was justified, the trial takes a different view.
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explainer guy
2.0 out of 5 starsVerified Purchase
An odd, interesting tale
Reviewed in the United States on November 15, 2018
The title character and his neuroses, or psychology remains an odd, perplexing mystery to me. I suppose I don''t quite get the moral core of the story - other than that justice is elusive and never easy to serve as a corrective? Passages were very interesting and... See more
The title character and his neuroses, or psychology remains an odd, perplexing mystery to me. I suppose I don''t quite get the moral core of the story - other than that justice is elusive and never easy to serve as a corrective?

Passages were very interesting and engrossing, while odd, late diversions into very detailed sexual encounters didn''t seem necessary.

So, I would say this is something with redeeming qualities, but by no means an easy read.
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JJH23
4.0 out of 5 starsVerified Purchase
... bouts were legendary (lousy fighter but he had the good sense to do a a lot of his drinking ...
Reviewed in the United States on January 7, 2017
Been a fan of Dexter since his days as columnist for the Philadelphia Daily News where both his writing and drinking bouts were legendary (lousy fighter but he had the good sense to do a a lot of his drinking with his buddy the boxer/kickbox champion Randall "Tex"... See more
Been a fan of Dexter since his days as columnist for the Philadelphia Daily News where both his writing and drinking bouts were legendary (lousy fighter but he had the good sense to do a a lot of his drinking with his buddy the boxer/kickbox champion Randall "Tex" Cobb). I read a number of Dexter''s good books including Deadwood and God''s Pocket (the latter being a disappointing movie despite Phillip Seymour Hoffman) but I believe this was by far his best effort, being a chilling psychological portrait of the title namesake (almost presciently a mashup of the perpetrators of more recent heavily reported acts of violence) as well as Southern character studies up there with Flannery O''Connor. A really good read.
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Top reviews from other countries

James S. Mclean
1.0 out of 5 starsVerified Purchase
A strange, pointless tale with little to recommend it.
Reviewed in Canada on July 3, 2019
The writer certainly could have used a good editor - any editor for that matter. The protagonist, Paris Trout, is a man wit no redeemable worth. The reader can find no sympathetic side of him. The book is rambling, disjointed as about as worthless as its subject. The...See more
The writer certainly could have used a good editor - any editor for that matter. The protagonist, Paris Trout, is a man wit no redeemable worth. The reader can find no sympathetic side of him. The book is rambling, disjointed as about as worthless as its subject. The writing leans at times, to the sadistic and pornographic. I kept hoping for more - the basic idea was interesting but the writer never delivered. The ending was a complete disappointment.
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Michael O'Grady
5.0 out of 5 starsVerified Purchase
Paris Trout
Reviewed in Brazil on December 15, 2016
A journey into the South and its historic struggle with racism and engendered conflict between its segregated white black population...
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