Gabriel Finley and the Raven's Riddle - Softcover

Hagen, George

Softcover

ISBN 10: 0399552227 ISBN 13: 9780399552229

Verlag: Random House Children's Books, 2016

Inhaltsangabe

“A first-rate fantasy for middle-grade readers,” declares Booklist in a starred review, comparing Gabriel Finley to Harry Potter, Philip Pullman’s His Dark Materials series, and The Mysterious Benedict Society.
 
A tangle of ingenious riddles, a malevolent necklace called a torc, and flocks of menacing birds: these are just some of the obstacles that stand between Gabriel and his father, Adam Finley, who has vanished from their Brooklyn brownstone. When Gabriel rescues an orphaned baby raven named Paladin, he discovers a family secret: Finleys can bond with ravens in extraordinary ways. Along with Paladin and three valiant friends, Gabriel sets out to bring his father home. They soon discover that Adam is being held captive by the evil demon Corax—half man, half raven, and Adam’s very own disgraced brother—in a foreboding netherworld of birds called Aviopolis. With help from his army of ghoulish minions, the valravens, Corax is plotting to take over the land above, and now only Gabriel stands in his way.
 
“A vivid, compelling fantasy that sends you off to a world you will not soon forget.” —Norton Juster, author of The Phantom Tollbooth

“A great read for fantasy lovers who have worn out their copies of Harry Potter.” —School Library Journal, Starred

“Brimful of antic energy and inventive flair, like the best middle-grade fantasies; readers, like baby birds, will devour it and clamor for future installments.” —Kirkus Reviews

Über diesen Titel

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

George Hagen is the author of two novels for adults. The Laments—a Washington Post bestseller and recipient of the William Saroyan International Prize for writing—has been compared to the work of John Irving and Ann Tyler and described by Publishers Weekly as “a funny, touching novel about the meaning of family.” Tom Bedlam was called “a Victorian three-decker novel [that] shines with contemporary clarity and moves at the speed of ‘The Sopranos’” by the Los Angeles Times. Hagen had lived on three continents by the time he was twelve. The father of three children, he now lives in Brooklyn. This is his first book for kids. To learn more, visit gabrielfinley.com and follow gabriel-finley on Tumblr.

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Ravens and Riddles

Ravens love riddles.

In fact, ravens greet other ravens by telling a riddle. When one meets another, he’ll introduce himself by asking something like: “Can a raven and owl be friends?”

The other might shift from one foot to the other, puzzled, because ravens and owls are mortal enemies. But then he’ll think of an answer like:

“Yes, if the owl is stuffed and mounted on the wall!”

Then both ravens will start laughing in a coarse, throaty way that sounds rather painful, but it is just raven laughter.

A good many raven jokes are about owls. This is because ravens fear owls. Owls prey on ravens and eat their young; they swoop down upon their victims soundlessly; they are cold-hearted killers. Ravens consider owls to be stupid and dangerous, which is why they get so upset when they hear people use the expression “as wise as an owl.” There isn’t an owl alive who is as clever as a raven.

The most popular riddle ravens tell is the one about owls and sparrows.

“How stupid is a sparrow?” the first will say.

“As stupid as two owls!” the second will reply.

After this, they will cackle with laughter and become fast friends.



Why do ravens greet each other with a riddle?

It is to tell the good ravens from the bad.

This may surprise you, but long ago, ravens were our best friends. Ravens talked to us as easily as we talk to each other; they traded jokes and sang to babies to amuse them; they flew high above the fields and watched over our sheep; they led our fishing boats toward great schools of fish in the ocean. Out on the battlefields, as knights and soldiers lay wounded or dying, their faithful ravens would tend their wounds, give them medicine, or carry messages home for help.

After one tragic battle long ago, a grim phantom of a bird appeared. It looked like a raven--the same beak, silky feathers, and dark talons--but its eyes glowed a sickly yellow that pierced the mist of death around the fallen soldiers. This phantom asked each raven a question:

“How would you like to live forever?”

“Live forever? Impossible! How can any raven live forever?” each replied.

“It is simple,” continued the phantom. “Eat the flesh of your master.”

Many ravens were disgusted and flew away; but one raven listened. He had stood by his master for hours, offering words of comfort as the soldier’s last mortal breaths faded in the chill air. Death was a horrible thing, he told himself. Feeling terribly alone and helpless, he considered the grim bird’s promise.

“Could I truly live forever?” he replied.

The phantom nodded. “One bite.”

The raven leaned over the body of his fallen companion and took the tiniest peck of flesh. First he felt ashamed; then a queasiness filled his belly, followed by an icy sensation that trickled into his heart. Suddenly, his heart began to race so fast that he thought it would burst from his chest.

In the same instant, time began to move faster for him: the grass wriggled out of the ground in a hurry to reach the sky; the sun crossed from east to west as quickly as a second hand sweeping around a clock. Then the terrible part--he felt hunger: a nagging, gnawing, craven ache in his belly. He ate more to make the hunger disappear, but it grew worse. When his master was nothing but a pile of bones, he became horrified. Had he done this? A cold, wretched bitterness engulfed his soul.

The hole in his belly would be there forever.

“You are a valraven now,” said the phantom to his new disciple. “Come, help me. We shall make more of our kind!”

Soldiers couldn’t tell the difference between ravens and valravens. When they saw one bird eating the flesh of a soldier they blamed all ravens and swatted them away with their swords and told their families, “Don’t trust ravens anymore; they’ll eat you.”

It saddened the ravens to be shunned by men, for they were loyal creatures who loved jokes, laughter, and life. Afraid of being stoned or caged, they dared not speak to humans anymore. Instead, they spoke only to each other and kept company with their own kind.

As for valravens, they were vicious, spiteful creatures. If a raven refused to join them, he would be killed or blinded. Perpetually hungry, valravens never lost their taste for human flesh.

That is why ravens use riddles to tell the good ones from the bad.

No riddle is funny to a valraven.

That is always the first clue that you are in trouble.

So if a valraven asks you a riddle, what should you do?

Run for your life.



The Book of Ravens

Gabriel Finley didn’t know anything about ravens, but he loved riddles.

He loved them the way other kids love baseball or computer games or mystery books. Riddles were like locks to Gabriel. He liked to pry them open and figure out what made them work. He liked the tricky ones that forced you to think about double meanings in words:

When is a door not a door?

When it’s ajar.

He liked riddles that used unfamiliar words, like ajar, which means a door that is slightly open, but he also liked riddles that stretched your imagination, like this one:

You’ll always see me in first place in a running race, third in a marathon, fourth in a tear, yet never in a dash! Who am I?

He spent a day puzzling over it, until, finally, he wrote it down and realized that the letter “r” comes first in running race, third in marathon, and fourth in the word tear.

Of course, Gabriel had another reason for loving riddles. His father had been a master of riddles. He’d told Gabriel a riddle every day, every single day--that is, until the day that he disappeared.



The Finleys’ house was nestled in the old part of Brooklyn, where all the houses were brownstones with flickering lamps in the front yards, curved glass windows, and wrought-iron gates. It had once belonged to Gabriel’s grandparents; the front door was cracked and weathered, its stairs were creaky, and its furniture was peculiar--lumpy armchairs of faded silk and velvet tasseled pillows, locked desks and cabinets with carved animal feet, a chandelier with candleholders made of antique pistols, and odd paintings of relatives (all very strange people, from the look of them).

The oddest painting hung in the study over a black desk. It depicted a boy of about twelve. Most of his features were in shadow, but the visible parts were very disturbing: his mouth was so small you might think he didn’t have one; his hair was black and iridescent, like the rainbow of colors in an oil slick. And the nose? It was more like a raven’s beak--strong, curved, and sharp at the tip. His eyes watched you with a cold, heartless stare and followed you wherever you stood in the room.

A single word was printed on the bottom of the portrait’s frame. It didn’t sound like a boy’s name, but it suited the figure in the picture. Corax. Someone solitary, mysterious, and terrible.

“Did he really grow up to be my uncle?” Gabriel asked his aunt one late-summer evening during dinner.

Aunt Jaz had looked after Gabriel for the three years since his father went away. They were eating mu shu pork from a cardboard container (Aunt Jaz rarely cooked because the ancient kitchen stove made creepy bonking noises).

“Who, dear?”

“The boy in that weird painting upstairs.”

When she didn’t want to talk about something, Aunt Jaz’s eyebrows rose high into her forehead. They weren’t really...

Details zur Ausgabe

• Verlag: Random House Children's Books
• Erscheinungsdatum: 2016
• Sprache: Englisch
• ISBN 10: 0399552227
• ISBN 13: 9780399552229
• Einband: Taschenbuch
• Anzahl der Seiten: 384
• Kontakt zum Hersteller: Nicht verfügbar
• Verantwortliche Person: gpsr@libri.de; gpsr@libri.de; ; Europaallee 1; Bad Hersfeld; 36244; Deutschland