ΠΠ΅Ρ ΠΎΡΠ·ΡΠ²ΠΎΠ²
ΠΡΠΏΠΈΠ» 1 ΡΠ΅Π»ΠΎΠ²Π΅ΠΊ
ΠΠ½Π½ΠΎΡΠ°ΡΠΈΡ
| ΠΠ·Π΄Π°ΡΠ΅Π»ΡΡΡΠ²ΠΎ | |
|---|---|
| ΠΠ΅ΡΠ΅ΠΏΠ»Π΅Ρ | ΠΡΠ³ΠΊΠΈΠΉ ΠΏΠ΅ΡΠ΅ΠΏΠ»ΡΡ |
| Π‘ΡΡΠ°Π½ΠΈΡ | 386 |
| ΠΠΎΠ΄, ΡΠΈΡΠ°ΠΆ | 2024 |
ΠΠ΅ Π² Π½Π°Π»ΠΈΡΠΈΠΈ
ΠΡΠ·ΡΠ²Ρ
0ΠΠΏΠΈΡΠ°Π½ΠΈΠ΅ ΠΈ Ρ Π°ΡΠ°ΠΊΡΠ΅ΡΠΈΡΡΠΈΠΊΠΈ
In 1972, when workers in Pottstown, Pennsylvania, were digging the foundations for a new development, the last thing they expected to find was a skeleton at the bottom of a well. Who the skeleton was and how it got there were two of the long-held secrets kept by the residents of Chicken Hill, the dilapidated neighbourhood where immigrant Jews and African Americans lived side by side and shared ambitions and sorrows.
As these characters' stories overlap and deepen, it becomes clear how much the people who live on the margins struggle and what they must do to survive. When the truth is finally revealed about what happened on Chicken Hill and the part the town's white establishment played in it, McBride shows us that even in dark times, it is love and community-heaven and earth-that sustain us.
As these characters' stories overlap and deepen, it becomes clear how much the people who live on the margins struggle and what they must do to survive. When the truth is finally revealed about what happened on Chicken Hill and the part the town's white establishment played in it, McBride shows us that even in dark times, it is love and community-heaven and earth-that sustain us.
| ΠΠΎΠ΄ | 3082279 |
|---|---|
| ΠΠ·Π΄Π°ΡΠ΅Π»ΡΡΡΠ²ΠΎ | |
| ΠΠ²ΡΠΎΡ | |
| ΠΠ΅ΡΠ΅ΠΏΠ»Π΅Ρ | ΠΡΠ³ΠΊΠΈΠΉ ΠΏΠ΅ΡΠ΅ΠΏΠ»ΡΡ |
| ΠΠΎΠ»-Π²ΠΎ ΡΡΡΠ°Π½ΠΈΡ | 386 |
| ΠΠΎΠ΄ ΠΈΠ·Π΄Π°Π½ΠΈΡ | 2024 |
| ISBN | 978-1-3996-2042-0 |
| Π Π°Π·Π΄Π΅Π» | Π‘ΠΎΠ²ΡΠ΅ΠΌΠ΅Π½Π½Π°Ρ ΠΏΡΠΎΠ·Π° Π½Π° Π°Π½Π³Π»ΠΈΠΉΡΠΊΠΎΠΌ |
| Π Π°Π·ΠΌΠ΅ΡΡ | 2.4 ΡΠΌ Γ 12.7 ΡΠΌ Γ 19.7 ΡΠΌ |
| ΠΠ΅Ρ | 0.28 ΠΊΠ³ |