ΠΠ΅Ρ ΠΎΡΠ·ΡΠ²ΠΎΠ²
ΠΠ½Π½ΠΎΡΠ°ΡΠΈΡ
| ΠΠ·Π΄Π°ΡΠ΅Π»ΡΡΡΠ²ΠΎ | |
|---|---|
| ΠΠ΅ΡΠ΅ΠΏΠ»Π΅Ρ | ΠΡΠ³ΠΊΠΈΠΉ ΠΏΠ΅ΡΠ΅ΠΏΠ»ΡΡ |
| Π‘ΡΡΠ°Π½ΠΈΡ | 245 |
| ΠΠΎΠ΄, ΡΠΈΡΠ°ΠΆ | 2007 |
ΠΠ΅ Π² Π½Π°Π»ΠΈΡΠΈΠΈ
ΠΡΠ·ΡΠ²Ρ
0ΠΠΏΠΈΡΠ°Π½ΠΈΠ΅ ΠΈ Ρ Π°ΡΠ°ΠΊΡΠ΅ΡΠΈΡΡΠΈΠΊΠΈ
High Fidelity. Is it possible to share your life with someone whose record collection is incompatible with your own? Can people have terrible taste and still be worth knowing? Do songs about broken hearts and misery and loneliness mess up your life if consumed in excess? For Rob Fleming, thirty-five years old, a pop addict and owner of a failing record shop, these are the sort of questions that need an answer, and soon. His girlfriend has just left him. Can he really go on living in a poky flat surrounded b
.
| ΠΠΎΠ΄ | 2170413 |
|---|---|
| ΠΠ·Π΄Π°ΡΠ΅Π»ΡΡΡΠ²ΠΎ | |
| ΠΠ²ΡΠΎΡ | |
| ΠΠ΅ΡΠ΅ΠΏΠ»Π΅Ρ | ΠΡΠ³ΠΊΠΈΠΉ ΠΏΠ΅ΡΠ΅ΠΏΠ»ΡΡ |
| ΠΠΎΠ»-Π²ΠΎ ΡΡΡΠ°Π½ΠΈΡ | 245 |
| ΠΠΎΠ΄ ΠΈΠ·Π΄Π°Π½ΠΈΡ | 2007 |
| Π Π°Π·Π΄Π΅Π» | Π‘ΠΎΠ²ΡΠ΅ΠΌΠ΅Π½Π½Π°Ρ ΠΏΡΠΎΠ·Π° Π½Π° Π°Π½Π³Π»ΠΈΠΉΡΠΊΠΎΠΌ |
| Π Π°Π·ΠΌΠ΅ΡΡ | 1.5 ΡΠΌ Γ 11 ΡΠΌ Γ 18 ΡΠΌ |
| ΠΠ΅Ρ | 0.14 ΠΊΠ³ |