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The Bluest Eye [Hardcover]

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  • Category: Books (Fiction)
  • Author:  Morrison, Toni
  • Author:  Morrison, Toni
  • ISBN-10:  0375411550
  • ISBN-10:  0375411550
  • ISBN-13:  9780375411557
  • ISBN-13:  9780375411557
  • Publisher:  Knopf
  • Publisher:  Knopf
  • Pages:  224
  • Pages:  224
  • Binding:  Hardcover
  • Binding:  Hardcover
  • Pub Date:  01-May-1993
  • Pub Date:  01-May-1993
  • SKU:  0375411550-11-SPLV
  • SKU:  0375411550-11-SPLV
  • Item ID: 100373364
  • List Price: $28.00
  • Seller: ShopSpell
  • Ships in: 2 business days
  • Transit time: Up to 5 business days
  • Delivery by: Jan 19 to Jan 21
  • Notes: Brand New Book. Order Now.
The Bluest Eye, published in 1970, is the first novel written by Toni Morrison, winner of the 1993 Nobel Prize in Literature.

It is the story of eleven-year-old Pecola Breedlove -- a black girl in an America whose love for its blond, blue-eyed children can devastate all others -- who prays for her eyes to turn blue: so that she will be beautiful, so that people will look at her, so that her world will be different. This is the story of the nightmare at the heart of her yearning, and the tragedy of its fulfillment.

“So precise, so faithful to speech and so charged with pain and wonder that the novel becomes poetry.”  —The New York Times

“A profoundly successful work of fiction. . . . Taut and understated, harsh in its detachment, sympathetic in its truth . . . it is an experience.” —The Detroit Free Press


“This story commands attention, for it contains one black girl’s universe.” —Newsweek

Toni Morrison has worked in publishing and has taught at various universities, including Yale, Rutgers, and the State University of New York at Albany as the Schweitzer Chair. She is currently Robert F. Goheen Professor at Princeton. She received the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1993, and the National Book  Foundation Medal for Distinguished Contribution to American Letters in 1996.Nuns go by as quiet as lust, and drunken men and sober eyes sing in the lobby of the Greek hotel. Rosemary Villanucci, our next-door friend who lives above her father's cafe, sits in a 1939 Buick eating bread and butter. She rolls down the window to tell my sister Frieda and me that we can't come in. We stare at her, wanting her bread, but more than that wanting to poke the arrogance out of her eyes and smash the pride of ownership that curls her chewing mouth. When she comes out of the car we will beat her up, make red marks on her white skin, and she will crylC{
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