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Books

Black Cat
Black Cat
Black Cat

Tiger, Tiger

by Galaxy Craze

“[An] exquisite new novel . . . Craze’s gorgeous prose is all in the incisive detail. What emerges from Tiger, Tiger is a skillfully rendered, bittersweet family portrait: a loving but self-involved father; a mother striving to be the warm, caring mom she herself never had; and two children fending for themselves in a strange and sometimes brutal world, where innocence can be lost over and over again.” —Gabrielle Danchick, the New York Post

  • Imprint Black Cat
  • Page Count 240
  • Publication Date July 22, 2008
  • ISBN-13 978-0-8021-7054-5
  • Dimensions 5.5" x 8.25"
  • US List Price $14.00

About The Book

Critically acclaimed author Galaxy Craze once again takes us into the lives of Lucy, May, and Eden from By the Shore, in an emotional follow-up that examines how neglecting what you have, in search of something better, can cause you to lose it all.

Lucy has always had a volatile marriage, one marked with frequent splits and reconciliations. So when she gathers up her two young children, May and Eden, and walks out on her husband, no one expects it will be for good. Until she flees England for America.

In the serene, sunbathed California landscape—a far cry from life in London—Lucy, May, and Eden begin to believe that this strange new country might offer them a chance to reconnect with each other. But when they settle in the Parvati Ashram, what first seemed idyllic threatens to sever their already tenuous family ties.

Like most outsiders, May sees their new world as a cult, but in her mother’s eyes it is a place of healing and salvation. As Lucy is taken deeper into the confidence of their religious leader, Parvati, May’s initial defenses and doubts about the ashram are slowly broken down by the bond she forms with the sensual and manipulative proselyte, Sati. Thoughts of England slowly begin to disappear as they settle into their new reality, where blind faith challenges human instinct and decency, forcing both Lucy and May to decide where their loyalties lie, and if a harsh, less-than-perfect but real life is better than a vacuous ideal.

With Tiger, Tiger, Galaxy Craze looks human desperation, hope, and resolve square in the eyes and proves that true completeness and understanding does not come from the outside, but from within.

Tags Literary

Praise

“A page-turner . . . Craze writes the sort of direct, dry-eyed prose that elevates even the most mundane events into carefully observed drama.” —Ken Foster, Time Out New York

“[An] exquisite new novel . . . Craze’s gorgeous prose is all in the incisive detail. What emerges from Tiger, Tiger is a skillfully rendered, bittersweet family portrait: a loving but self-involved father; a mother striving to be the warm, caring mom she herself never had; and two children fending for themselves in a strange and sometimes brutal world, where innocence can be lost over and over again.” —Gabrielle Danchick, the New York Post

“Galaxy Craze totally nails down the eccentricities of California. . . . Serene and heartfelt, the British Craze writes a vivid glimpse into the very American ideal of reinvention and rebirth.” —Metro (New York)

“[Craze] gives May a delicate, distinctive voice. . .. [Here] the trials of adolescence don’t stand a chance against the absurdity of grown-ups.” —Kirkus Reviews

“Poetic . . . The perfect yarn for anyone riveted by the religious cult action now dominating the headlines.” —Sarah Z. Wexler, Marie Claire

Excerpt

The last time my mother left my father he was sitting at the kitchen table. “Simon,” she said. “I am leaving you.” She stood by the front door with her winter coat on, holding Eden’s hand.

My father stared at a cup of tea on the table in front of him. Our mother turned the door handle and he looked up, suddenly, as though startled by the sound of the lock and he sat at the table watching us leave, his mouth slightly open.

I thought: I should look back. I should say good-bye. But I followed down the steps. She walked quickly down the street. Her coat open and her breath visible in the cold morning air. In the fluster and rush, her handbag slipped from her shoulder, she stumbled on the pavement. “Hurry,” she said, as though we were running for a train, as though someone were chasing us in the dark.

I thought, soon we’ll hear his footsteps running up behind us. “Lucy, wait . . . stop! Don’t leave.” But there were none.

While we sat in the car, waiting for the engine to warm, the front door of our house remained closed. With one hand on the steering wheel, she bit her thumbnail. “He couldn’t even be bothered to get up from the table and say good-bye,” she said. “He was probably worried his tea would get cold.”