2012, ISBN: 9781843170846

Hardcover

Dunmore Press Ltd. Very Good. 21 cm. Paperback. 1999. 241 pages. <br>Includes: Rogernomics, the Washington consensus an d New Zealand economic policy / Peter Harris -- The Politics … More...

Dunmore Press Ltd. Very Good. 21 cm. Paperback. 1999. 241 pages. <br>Includes: Rogernomics, the Washington consensus an d New Zealand economic policy / Peter Harris -- The Politics and economics of the third way / Chris Eichbaum -- Third Way economic s: what this might mnean in New Zealand / Paul Dalziel -- New Zea land structural policies : outcomes for the last fifteen years an d new directions for the next / Bryan Philpott -- The World econo my, globalisation and New Zealand : which way now / Srikanta Chat terjee -- The reserve bank and monetary policy / Chris Eichbaum - - Industry policy / Peter Conway -- Rehabilitating the public ser vice -- alternatives to the Wellington model / Richard Shaw -- To wards a Post Washington Consensus / Peter Harris and Chris Eichba um. ., Dunmore Press Ltd, 1999, 3, Ballantine Books. Very Good. 5.32 x 1 x 8.01 inches. Paperback. 2012. 331 pages. <br>NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER ? A deeply evocative sto ry of ambition and betrayal that captures the love affair between two unforgettable people, Ernest Hemingway and his wife Hadley-- from the author of Love and Ruin and the new novel When the Stars Go Dark, available now! A beautiful portrait of being in Paris in the glittering 1920s--as a wife and as one's own woman.--Ente rtainment Weekly NAMED ONE OF THE BEST BOOKS OF THE YEAR BY Peop le ? Chicago Tribune ? NPR ? The Philadelphia Inquirer ? Kirkus R eviews ? The Toronto Sun ? BookPage Chicago, 1920: Hadley Richar dson is a quiet twenty-eight-year-old who has all but given up on love and happiness--until she meets Ernest Hemingway. Following a whirlwind courtship and wedding, the pair set sail for Paris, w here they become the golden couple in a lively and volatile group --the fabled Lost Generation--that includes Gertrude Stein, Ezra Pound, and F. Scott Fitzgerald. Though deeply in love, the Hemin gways are ill prepared for the hard-drinking, fast-living, and fr ee-loving life of Jazz Age Paris. As Ernest struggles to find the voice that will earn him a place in history and pours himself in to the novel that will become The Sun Also Rises, Hadley strives to hold on to her sense of self as her roles as wife, friend, and muse become more challenging. Eventually they find themselves fa cing the ultimate crisis of their marriage--a deception that will lead to the unraveling of everything they've fought so hard for. A heartbreaking portrayal of love and torn loyalty, The Paris W ife is all the more poignant because we know that, in the end, He mingway wrote that he would rather have died than fallen in love with anyone but Hadley. Editorial Reviews Review McLain smartl y explores Hadley's ambivalence about her role as supportive wife to a budding genius. . . . Women and book groups are going to ea t up this novel.--USA Today Written much in the style of Nancy H oran's Loving Frank . . . Paula McLain's fictional account of Hem ingway's first marriage beautifully captures the sense of despair and faint hope that pervaded the era and their marriage.--Associ ated Press Lyrical and exhilarating . . . McLain offers a raw an d fresh look at the prolific Hemingway. In this mesmerizing and h elluva-good-time novel, McLain inhabits Richardson's voice and gu ides us from Chicago--Richardson and Hemingway's initial stomping ground--to the place where their life together really begins: Pa ris.--Elle A beautiful portrait of being in Paris in the glitter ing 1920s--as a wife and as one's own woman.--Entertainment Weekl y [Paula] McLain has brought Hadley [Hemingway] to life in a nov el that begins in a rush of early love. . . . A moving portrait o f a woman slighted by history, a woman whose . . . story needed t o be told.--The Boston Globe The Paris Wife creates the kind of out-of-body reading experience that dedicated book lovers yearn f or, nearly as good as reading Hemingway for the first time--and i t doesn't get much better than that.--Minneapolis Star Tribune E xquisitely evocative . . . This absorbing, illuminating book give s us an intimate view of a sympathetic and perceptive woman, the striving writer she married, the glittering and wounding Paris ci rcle they were part of. . . . McLain reinvents the story of Hadle y and Ernest's romance with the lucid grace of a practiced poet.- -The Seattle Times A novel that's impossible to resist. It's all here, and it all feels real.--People About the Author Paula Mc Lain is the New York Times bestselling author of the novels Love and Ruin, Circling the Sun, The Paris Wife, and A Ticket to Ride, the memoir Like Family: Growing Up in Other People's Houses, and two collections of poetry. Her writing has appeared in The New Y ork Times, Good Housekeeping, O: The Oprah Magazine, Town & Count ry, The Guardian, The Huffington Post, and elsewhere. She lives i n Ohio with her family. About the Author Paula McLain is the New York Times bestselling author of the novels Love and Ruin, Circl ing the Sun, The Paris Wife, and A Ticket to Ride, the memoir Lik e Family: Growing Up in Other People's Houses, and two collection s of poetry. Her writing has appeared in The New York Times, Good Housekeeping, O: The Oprah Magazine, Town & Country, The Guardia n, The Huffington Post, and elsewhere. She lives in Ohio with her family. Excerpt. ® Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved . ONE The very first thing he does is fix me with those wonderfu lly brown eyes and say, It's possible I'm too drunk to judge, but you might have something there. It's October 1920 and jazz is e verywhere. I don't know any jazz, so I'm playing Rachmaninoff. I can feel a flush beginning in my cheeks from the hard cider my de ar pal Kate Smith has stuffed down me so I'll relax. I'm getting there, second by second. It starts in my fingers, warm and loose, and moves along my nerves, rounding through me. I haven't been d runk in over a year--not since my mother fell seriously ill--and I've missed the way it comes with its own perfect glove of fog, s ettling snugly and beautifully over my brain. I don't want to thi nk and I don't want to feel, either, unless it's as simple as thi s beautiful boy's knee inches from mine. The knee is nearly enou gh on its own, but there's a whole package of a man attached, tal l and lean, with a lot of very dark hair and a dimple in his left cheek you could fall into. His friends call him Hemingstein, Oin bones, Bird, Nesto, Wemedge, anything they can dream up on the sp ot. He calls Kate Stut or Butstein (not very flattering!), and an other fellow Little Fever, and yet another Horney or the Great Ho rned Article. He seems to know everyone, and everyone seems to kn ow the same jokes and stories. They telegraph punch lines back an d forth in code, lightning fast and wisecracking. I can't keep up , but I don't mind really. Being near these happy strangers is li ke a powerful transfusion of good cheer. When Kate wanders over from the vicinity of the kitchen, he points his perfect chin at m e and says, What should we name our new friend? Hash, Kate says. Hashedad's better, he says. Hasovitch. And you're Bird? I ask. Wem, Kate says. I'm the fellow who thinks someone should be da ncing. He smiles with everything he's got, and in very short orde r, Kate's brother Kenley has kicked the living room carpet to one side and is manning the Victrola. We throw ourselves into it, da ncing our way through a stack of records. He's not a natural, but his arms and legs are free in their joints, and I can tell that he likes being in his body. He's not the least shy about moving i n on me either. In no time at all our hands are damp and clenched , our cheeks close enough that I can feel the very real heat of h im. And that's when he finally tells me his name is Ernest. I'm thinking of giving it away, though. Ernest is so dull, and Heming way? Who wants a Hemingway? Probably every girl between here and Michigan Avenue, I think, looking at my feet to keep from blushi ng. When I look up again, he has his brown eyes locked on me. We ll? What do you think? Should I toss it out? Maybe not just yet. You never know. A name like that could catch on, and where would you be if you'd ditched it? Good point. I'll take it under cons ideration. A slow number starts, and without asking, he reaches for my waist and scoops me toward his body, which is even better up close. His chest is solid and so are his arms. I rest my hands on them lightly as he backs me around the room, past Kenley cran king the Victrola with glee, past Kate giving us a long, curious look. I close my eyes and lean into Ernest, smelling bourbon and soap, tobacco and damp cotton--and everything about this moment i s so sharp and lovely, I do something completely out of character and just let myself have it. TWO There's a song from that time by Nora Bayes called Make Believe, which might have been the mos t lilting and persuasive treatise on self-delusion I'd ever heard . Nora Bayes was beautiful, and she sang with a trembling voice t hat told you she knew things about love. When she advised you to throw off all the old pain and worry and heartache and smile--wel l, you believed she'd done this herself. It wasn't a suggestion b ut a prescription. The song must have been a favorite of Kenley's , too. He played it three times the night I arrived in Chicago, a nd each time I felt it speaking directly to me: Make believe you are glad when you're sorry. Sunshine will follow the rain. I'd h ad my share of rain. My mother's illness and death had weighed on me, but the years before had been heavy, too. I was only twenty- eight, and yet I'd been living like a spinster on the second floo r of my older sister Fonnie's house while she and her husband Rol and and their four dear beasts lived downstairs. I hadn't meant f or things to stay this way. I assumed I'd get married or find a c areer like my school friends. They were harried young mothers now , schoolteachers or secretaries or aspiring ad writers, like Kate . Whatever they were, they were living their lives, out there doi ng it, making their mistakes. Somehow I'd gotten stuck along the way--long before my mother's illness--and I didn't know how to fr ee myself exactly. Sometimes, after playing an hour of passable Chopin, I'd lie down on the carpet in front of the piano and star e at the ceiling, feeling whatever energy I'd had while playing l eave my body. It was terrible to feel so empty, as if I were noth ing. Why couldn't I be happy? And just what was happiness anyway? Could you fake it, as Nora Bayes insisted? Could you force it li ke a spring bulb in your kitchen, or rub up against it at a party in Chicago and catch it like a cold? Ernest Hemingway was still very much a stranger to me, but he seemed to do happiness all th e way up and through. There wasn't any fear in him that I could s ee, just intensity and aliveness. His eyes sparked all over every thing, all over me as he leaned back on his heel and spun me towa rd him. He tucked me fast against his chest, his breath warm on m y neck and hair. How long have you known Stut? he asked. We wen t to grade school together in St. Louis, at Mary Institute. What about you? You want my whole educational pedigree? It's not much . No, I laughed. Tell me about Kate. That would fill a book, an d I'm not sure I'm the fellow to write it. His voice was light, s till teasing, but he'd stopped smiling. What do you mean? Nothi ng, he said. The short and sweet part is our families both have s ummer cottages in Horton Bay. That's Michigan to a southerner lik e you. Funny that we both grew up with Kate. I was ten to her e ighteen. Let's just say I was happy to grow up alongside her. Wit h a nice view of the scenery. You had a crush, in other words. No, those are the right words, he said, then looked away. I'd ob viously touched some kind of nerve in him, and I didn't want to d o it again. I liked him smiling and laughing and loose. In fact, my response to him was so powerful that I already knew I would do a lot to keep him happy. I changed the subject fast. Are you fr om Chicago? Oak Park. That's right up the street. For a souther ner like me. Precisely. Well, you're a bang-up dancer, Oak Park . You too, St. Louis. The song ended and we parted to catch our breath. I moved to one side of Kenley's long living room while E rnest was quickly swallowed up by admirers--women, naturally. The y seemed awfully young and sure of themselves with their bobbed h air and brightly rouged cheeks. I was closer to a Victorian holdo ut than a flapper. My hair was still long, knotted at the nape of my neck, but it was a good rich auburn color, and though my dres s wasn't up to the minute, my figure made up for that, I thought. In fact, I'd been feeling very good about the way I looked the w hole time Ernest and I were dancing--he was so appreciative with those eyes!--but now that he was surrounded by vivacious women, m y confidence was waning. You seemed awfully friendly with Nesto, Kate said, appearing at my elbow. Maybe. Can I have the rest of that? I pointed to her drink. It's rather volcanic. She grimace d and passed it over. What is it? I put my face to the rim of th e glass, which was close enough. It smelled like rancid gasoline. Something homemade. Little Fever handed it to me in the kitchen . I'm not sure he didn't cook it up in his shoe. Over against a long row of windows, Ernest began parading back and forth in a da rk blue military cape someone had dug up. When he turned, the cap e lifted and flared dramatically. That's quite a costume, I said . He's a war hero, didn't he tell you? I shook my head. I'm su re he'll get to it eventually. Her face didn't give anything away , but her voice had an edge. He told me he used to pine for you. Really? There was the tone again. He's clearly over it now. I didn't know what had come between these two old friends, but what ever it was, it was obviously complicated and well under wraps. I let it drop. I like to think I'm the kind of girl who'll drink anything, I said, but maybe not from a shoe. Right. Let's hunt s omething up. She smiled and flashed her green eyes at me, and bec ame my Kate again, not grim at all, and off we went to get very d runk and very merry. I found myself watching for Ernest the rest of the night, waiting for him to appear and stir things up, but he didn't. He must have slipped away at some point. One by one ne arly everyone did, so that by 3:00 a.m. the party had been reduce d to dregs, with Little Fever as the tragic centerpiece. He was p assed out on the davenport with long dark wool socks stretched ov er his face and his hat perched on his crossed feet. To bed, to bed, Kate said with a yawn. Is that Shakespeare? I don't know. Is it? She hiccuped, and then laughed. I'm off to my own little h ovel now. Will you be all right here? Of course. Kenley's made u p a lovely room for me. I walked her to the door, and as she sidl ed into her coat, we made a date for lunch the next day. You'll have to tell me all about things at home. We haven't had a moment to talk about your mother. It must have been awful for you, poor creatch. Talking about it will only make me sad again, I said. But this is perfect. Thanks for begging me to come., Ballantine Books, 2012, 3, Michael O'Mara Books. Very Good. 6.36 x 1.32 x 9.18 inches. Hardcover. 2004. 288 pages. <br>Diana in Pursuit of Love includes previously unpub lished details from the Diana-Morton tapes, it is based on wide-r anging research, and new and exclusive interviews. The definitive book on Diana, Pricess of Wales's last years, by the biographer she herself chose. When Andrew Morton's world-famous biography, D iana: Her True Story was first published, it caused a media frenz y, severely jolted the royal family and the Palace hierarchy, and shook the British Establishment to its foundations. Later reveal ed as having been written with the Princess's full co-operation, this world bestseller is now widely regarded as her official biog raphy. Yet, it was not the full story, nor could it have been, gi ven the circumstances at the time. This is even more apparent in the light of the events that have occurred since her death, which have been played out under the harsh gaze of the media, once aga in catapulting Diana's name back into the spotlight. Figures such as her sometime lover James Hewitt, her butler Paul Burrell and Prince Charles's valet Michael Fawcett have emerged, while intrig uing comments that Diana made to Morton in taped conversations, a nd which have never been published, become extremely important in view of subsequent events. Friends, advisers and colleagues, int erviewed now, more than six years after her death, feel a far gre ater freedom in speaking of her than once they did. In what is bo und to be seen as the definitive study of the Princess in the mos t crucial period of her short life, Diana: In Pursuit of Love pro vides the last word on one of the best-loved figures of our era. Editorial Reviews From Publishers Weekly Celebrity biographer M ortonÂ's fourth book on Diana, Princess of Wales, doesnÂ't contai n the shocking revelations of his first exposé, Diana: Her True S tory (1992), but provoking a scandal isnÂ't his intention with th is book. Rather, he aims to shed light on DianaÂ's true personali ty, which he feels has been distorted by the media and by those w ho knew or worked for her and subsequently exploited that associa tion. With the help of DianaÂ's close friends?including her confi dante, Dr. James Colthurst, and her astrologer, Debbie Frank?Mort on paints a portrait of a princess who, despite her beauty, kindn ess and popularity, was deeply afflicted by self-doubt, extremely dependent on the counsel of her friends and desperate for a man to love her. Her heart truly ruled her head, DianaÂ's masseur, St ephen Twigg, told Morton, and indeed, her fierce determination to enjoy a passionate, genuine relationship is evident in this acco unt. To break free of her loveless marriage, she was willing to d efy centuries-old royal protocol and risk losing her position, we alth and even her beloved sons to the Queen, who was legally enti tled to guardianship of William and Harry. After the divorce, she pinned her hopes for happiness on several men, adopting their in terests and imagining a future with each of them. Morton portrays Diana as lonely and vulnerable, yet possessing an indomitable sp irit. However, he is unrelenting in his criticism of DianaÂ's but ler and onetime friend, Paul Burrell, whose memoir Morton blasts for being exploitative and biased against the Spencer family. Tho ugh Morton covers little new ground, he succeeds in putting Diana Â's actions in context and presenting a balanced assessment of th is indelible figure. 32 pages of color photos. Copyright ® Reed B usiness Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved. ., Michael O'Mara Books, 2004, 3<

2004, ISBN: 9781843170846

Michael O'Mara Books. Very Good. 6.36 x 1.32 x 9.18 inches. Hardcover. 2004. 288 pages. <br>Diana in Pursuit of Love includes previously unpub lished details from the Diana-Mort… More...

Michael O'Mara Books. Very Good. 6.36 x 1.32 x 9.18 inches. Hardcover. 2004. 288 pages. <br>Diana in Pursuit of Love includes previously unpub lished details from the Diana-Morton tapes, it is based on wide-r anging research, and new and exclusive interviews. The definitive book on Diana, Pricess of Wales's last years, by the biographer she herself chose. When Andrew Morton's world-famous biography, D iana: Her True Story was first published, it caused a media frenz y, severely jolted the royal family and the Palace hierarchy, and shook the British Establishment to its foundations. Later reveal ed as having been written with the Princess's full co-operation, this world bestseller is now widely regarded as her official biog raphy. Yet, it was not the full story, nor could it have been, gi ven the circumstances at the time. This is even more apparent in the light of the events that have occurred since her death, which have been played out under the harsh gaze of the media, once aga in catapulting Diana's name back into the spotlight. Figures such as her sometime lover James Hewitt, her butler Paul Burrell and Prince Charles's valet Michael Fawcett have emerged, while intrig uing comments that Diana made to Morton in taped conversations, a nd which have never been published, become extremely important in view of subsequent events. Friends, advisers and colleagues, int erviewed now, more than six years after her death, feel a far gre ater freedom in speaking of her than once they did. In what is bo und to be seen as the definitive study of the Princess in the mos t crucial period of her short life, Diana: In Pursuit of Love pro vides the last word on one of the best-loved figures of our era. Editorial Reviews From Publishers Weekly Celebrity biographer M ortonÂ's fourth book on Diana, Princess of Wales, doesnÂ't contai n the shocking revelations of his first exposé, Diana: Her True S tory (1992), but provoking a scandal isnÂ't his intention with th is book. Rather, he aims to shed light on DianaÂ's true personali ty, which he feels has been distorted by the media and by those w ho knew or worked for her and subsequently exploited that associa tion. With the help of DianaÂ's close friends?including her confi dante, Dr. James Colthurst, and her astrologer, Debbie Frank?Mort on paints a portrait of a princess who, despite her beauty, kindn ess and popularity, was deeply afflicted by self-doubt, extremely dependent on the counsel of her friends and desperate for a man to love her. Her heart truly ruled her head, DianaÂ's masseur, St ephen Twigg, told Morton, and indeed, her fierce determination to enjoy a passionate, genuine relationship is evident in this acco unt. To break free of her loveless marriage, she was willing to d efy centuries-old royal protocol and risk losing her position, we alth and even her beloved sons to the Queen, who was legally enti tled to guardianship of William and Harry. After the divorce, she pinned her hopes for happiness on several men, adopting their in terests and imagining a future with each of them. Morton portrays Diana as lonely and vulnerable, yet possessing an indomitable sp irit. However, he is unrelenting in his criticism of DianaÂ's but ler and onetime friend, Paul Burrell, whose memoir Morton blasts for being exploitative and biased against the Spencer family. Tho ugh Morton covers little new ground, he succeeds in putting Diana Â's actions in context and presenting a balanced assessment of th is indelible figure. 32 pages of color photos. Copyright ® Reed B usiness Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved. ., Michael O'Mara Books, 2004, 3<

2004, ISBN: 9781843170846

Hardcover

Hardcover, Very good in very good dust jacket., [ED: 1], First Edition. A hardback First Edition in Very Good condition, in a similar dustjacket. This book is in stock now, in our UK prem… More...

Hardcover, Very good in very good dust jacket., [ED: 1], First Edition. A hardback First Edition in Very Good condition, in a similar dustjacket. This book is in stock now, in our UK premises. Photos of our books are available on request (the pictures you see on Alibris are NOT our own). Are you outside UK? Then unless you arrange shipping 'Via Alibris' we WILL cancel your order; this is due to the derisory shipping allowance that Alibris make to sellers for overseas orders. , [PU: Michael O'Mara Books Ltd]<

2004, ISBN: 9781843170846

Michael O'Mara Books, 2004-06-01. Hardcover. Acceptable. 6x1x9., Michael O'Mara Books, 2004-06-01, 2.5