By Walter M. Miller Jr.
In social gathering of the ebook of the sequel Saint Leibowitz and the Wild Horse girl comes this unique version of the vintage A Canticle for Leibowitz, a unique that transcends style to face as essentially the most major literary works of our time.In the Utah wilderness, Brother Francis of the Albertian Order of Leibowitz has made a magnificent discovery: the relics of the martyr Isaac Leibowitz himself, together with the blessed blueprint and the sacred procuring checklist. they might supply a vivid ray of desire in a terrifying age of darkness, a time of lack of understanding and genetic monsters which are the unholy aftermath of the Flame Deluge. yet because the spellbinding secret on the middle of this striking novel unfolds, it's the seek itsel—for which means, for fact, for love—that bargains desire to a humanity teetering at the fringe of an abyss.A undying and nonetheless well timed masterpiece, A Canticle for Leibowitz is a vintage that ranks with courageous New global and 1984.
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Extra resources for A Canticle for Leibowitz (Bantam Spectra Book)
He had, on the first day of Lent, roofed it over with a heap of brush, and used the trench by night as refuge from the desert’s wolves. But as the days of his fasting grew in number, his presence had increased his spoor in the vicinity until the nocturnal lupine prowlers seemed unduly attracted to the area of the ruins and even scratched around his brush heap when the fire was gone. Francis had first attempted to discourage their nightly digging by increasing the thickness of the brush pile over his trench, and by surrounding it with a ring of stones set tightly in a furrow.
Brother Francis nodded. “They’ll give you food and water too,” he added softly, in charity. The pilgrim chuckled. “For that, I’ll find you a rock to fit that gap before I go. ” But you need not-The protest died unspoken. Brother Francis watched him hobbling slowly away. The pilgrim wandered in and about among the rubble mounds. He paused occasionally to inspect a stone or pry at one with his staff. His search would surely prove fruitless, the novice thought, for it was a repetition of a search which the youth himself had been making since mid-morning.
There should be very little trouble a boy could get into out here, armed as he was with only a rosary, a flint, a penknife, and a prayerbook. So it seemed to Father Cheroki. But this confession was taking up quite a lot of time; he wished the boy would get on with it. His arthritis was bothering him again, but because of the presence of the Holy Sacrament on the portable table which he took with him on his rounds, the priest preferred to stand, or to stay on his knees along with the penitent. He had lighted a candle before the small golden case which contained the Hosts, but the flame was invisible in the sun-glare, and the breeze might even have blown it out.
A Canticle for Leibowitz (Bantam Spectra Book) by Walter M. Miller Jr.