en
Jack Thorne

Bunny

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An exhilarating coming-of-age drama for a solo performer.
Fringe First Award, Edinburgh 2010
Scorching heat. A fight. A car chase. A siege. When her boyfriend is attacked on the street, feisty eighteen-year-old Katie is thrust on a white-knuckle ride through one extraordinary evening. Amidst the baying for blood and the longing for love, Katie is forced to decide her future.
'Electrifying combination of streetwise earthiness and heartbreaking vulnerability… terrific' Scotsman
Denne bog er ikke tilgængelig i øjeblikket
53 trykte sider
Oprindeligt udgivet
2012
Udgivelsesår
2012

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Vurderinger

  • Carys Blakehar delt en vurderingfor 5 år siden
    👍Værd at læse
    😄Vildt sjov

    Laugh out loud hilarious. Naughty, cheeky and a tad racist but in the funniest way. Some great lines in this book. I love the honest and explicit manifestation Thorpe conveys through Katie- a character I see some of myself in. In a nonchalant and lighthearted yet impactful way tackles themes such as British culture and ethnicity, relationships with parents, sexuality and the dramas of being a teenager. Great quick read.

Citater

  • Isabelle Byfordhar citeretfor 4 år siden
    ut they were bored and it was quite shit and they thought it’d be quite funny to leave, and it sort of was, you know? Funny. Still quite an embarrassing one to explain to your parents. Where are all your friends? Um. Hiding. No. They’ve gone. Obviously. Where have they gone? Um. Home. Probably. Why? Why have they gone? Turn. Look parents in the eye. Because this was pointless. I basically turned it all on them. Which was fair enough. They’d made some effort. But the wrong effort. And so had I. I mean, it was mostly my fault. There was booze – but there were too many snacks and not enough Ann Summers’ toys or something. I don’t know.
    Anyway, it’s not as bad as it sounds…
  • Carys Blakehar citeretfor 5 år siden
    but he’d never use a phrase like blood sugar because it sounds too posh.
  • Carys Blakehar citeretfor 5 år siden
    thinking. I don’t like thinking. I don’t like thinking. I don’t like thinking. I don’t like thinking. I don’t like thinking. I don’t like thinking. I don’t like thinking. I don’t like thinking. I don’t like thinking. I don’t like thinking. I don’t like thinking. I don’t like thinking. I don’t like thinking.
    But I do. Think. All the time

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