Stacey Swann

La famiglia Briscoe è un grande albero dai rami frastagliati che ha radici profonde a Olympus, Texas: il patriarca Peter ha avuto sei figli da tre donne diverse, una delle quali è sua moglie June, che alleva bestiame e culla annosi risentimenti eppure non ha mai smesso di amarlo e gli è rimasta fedele nonostante. Poi i figli: quando il primogenito March, rissoso fin da bambino, torna a casa dopo due anni di esilio – ha avuto una storia con Vera, l'incantevole, confusa moglie del fratello Hap – non è la riconciliazione che porta con sé, ma scintille pronte a innescare nuovi conflitti. Intanto Arlo, musicista errabondo dalla nera anima rock, sente che lo straordinario legame con la gemella Artie si sta incrinando, perché lei si è innamorata e forse non vorrà più seguirlo on the road. Tutti a Olympus seguono come uno spettacolo il crescendo di tensione destinato a esplodere in una settimana lunga come un anno, che vedrà saltare tutti gli equilibri. Feroci scambi di battute e risse da saloon, funerali e barbecue, vitelli da marchiare e veterinari affascinanti, vecchie verità e nuove bugie: in questo vivido romanzo d'esordio il mito greco scende dall'Olimpo per prendere la forma di una moderna saga familiare in cui l'amore vince tutto. Vince perché distrugge come un fuoco, e come un fuoco – forse – purifica.

A bighearted debut with technicolor characters, plenty of Texas swagger, and a powder keg of a plot in which marriages struggle, rivalries flare, and secrets explode, all with a clever wink toward classical mythology. The Briscoe family is once again the talk of their small town when March returns to East Texas two years after he was caught having an affair with his brother's wife. His mother, June, hardly welcomes him back with open arms. Her husband's own past affairs have made her tired of being the long-suffering spouse. Is it, perhaps, time for a change? Within days of March's arrival, someone is dead, marriages are upended, and even the strongest of alliances are shattered. In the end, the ties that hold them together might be exactly what drag them all down. An expansive tour de force, Olympus, Texas cleverly weaves elements of classical mythology into a thoroughly modern family saga, rich in drama and psychological complexity. After all, at some point, don't we all wonder: What good is this destructive force we call love?

10 hours, 18 minutes A bighearted debut with technicolor characters, plenty of Texas swagger, and a powder keg of a plot in which marriages struggle, rivalries flare, and secrets explode, all with a clever wink toward classical mythology (Wildly entertaining --Richard Russo) The Briscoe family is once again the talk of their small town when March returns to East Texas two years after he was caught having an affair with his brother's wife. His mother, June, hardly welcomes him back with open arms. Her husband's own past affairs have made her tired of being the long-suffering spouse. Is it, perhaps, time for a change? Within days of March's arrival, someone is dead, marriages are upended, and even the strongest of alliances are shattered. In the end, the ties that hold them together might be exactly what drag them all down. An expansive tour de force, Olympus, Texas cleverly weaves elements of classical mythology into a thoroughly modern family saga, rich in drama and psychological complexity. After all, at some point, don't we all wonder: What good is this destructive force we call love?