The Blind Pig on Second Avenue
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Sprache:Griechisch
13,99 €
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Produktdetails
Format
ePUB
Kopierschutz
Ja
Family Sharing
Ja
Text-to-Speech
Ja
Erscheinungsdatum
07.05.2025
Verlag
S. PatakisSeitenzahl
512 (Printausgabe)
Dateigröße
11179 KB
Sprache
Griechisch
EAN
9786180713169
I decided to write "Blind Pig on Second Avenue" after reading Uncle Lee's memoirs, published in Russian in 1963. In the book titled "Left-Sided Pleurisy: Memoirs of an American Red" - which could have had the subtitle "The Romance of American Communism" or something similar - Lee Phillips, formerly Elias Filippopoulos, recounts his life from 1918, when he boarded a ship to America, until 1961, when he left Memphis, Tennessee, to settle in his beloved Moscow.
I wrote a few pages each night on my way to California, where I went to meet my brother Paddy, and later in Montana, where I traveled just to see what Mary Kay looked like twenty years later. The manuscript - three hundred and twenty pages typed on a typewriter, full of smudges and corrections - I had stashed in the glove compartment of the station wagon, among various odds and ends: a flashlight, a pair of wool gloves, the car registration, and two speeding tickets. And I would have forgotten it there, had I not stopped at Harry White's junkyard in Memphis on my way back to trade the station wagon for an old Oldsmobile.
No one asked me to tell the story of the Phillips family and our city, Memphis, Tennessee. No one asked me not to tell it, either.
So I told this true story that is full of lies.
I wrote a few pages each night on my way to California, where I went to meet my brother Paddy, and later in Montana, where I traveled just to see what Mary Kay looked like twenty years later. The manuscript - three hundred and twenty pages typed on a typewriter, full of smudges and corrections - I had stashed in the glove compartment of the station wagon, among various odds and ends: a flashlight, a pair of wool gloves, the car registration, and two speeding tickets. And I would have forgotten it there, had I not stopped at Harry White's junkyard in Memphis on my way back to trade the station wagon for an old Oldsmobile.
No one asked me to tell the story of the Phillips family and our city, Memphis, Tennessee. No one asked me not to tell it, either.
So I told this true story that is full of lies.
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