The Ice Palace (Green Integer, #120) (Peter Owen modern classics) (Peter Owen Cased Classics)

by Tarjei Vesaas

Elizabeth Rokkan (Translator)

'if I had to choose a book I m surprised isn t the most famous book in the world it might be The Ice Palace by Tarjei Vesaas.' -- Max Porter

A beautiful gift edition of Vesaas's beautiful prose-novel, The Ice Palace, featuring a die-cut dust jacket and contemporary art.

In rural Norway, one evening after school, eleven-year-old Siss and Unn strike up a deep and unusual bond. When the next day Unn sets off alone into the wintry woods in search of a mysterious frozen waterfall, known locally as the 'ice palace', and does not return, a devastated Siss takes it upon herself to find her missing friend and ensure she is not forgotten.

The Ice Palace is one of the most memorable achievements in modern literature thanks in large part to Vesaas's unique command of a sparse, figurative and fragmentary style, the beauty and effect of which is not lost in translation. As part of the Peter Owen Cased Classics series, this special hardback edition is bound with printed endpapers, head and tail bands and a ribbon marker. The elegant dust jacket features a die cutting in the shape of an ice shard, while printed on the cover board is the work of acclaimed British contemporary artist Kaye Donachie.

• ISBN13: 9780720620061
• Publish Date: 28 September 2017 (first published January 1966)
• Publish Status: Active
• Out of Print: 8 March 2021
• Publish Country: GB
• Imprint: Peter Owen Publishers
• Edition: Special edition
• Format: Hardcover
• Pages: 176
• Language: English

Reviews

[jamiereadthis]

I have this tucked away corner of a shelf with a small stack of books, a treasure trove of only the most specific kind of simple, magical, eerie, uncannily wise books. Saved up, tucked aside, bottled away, just in case there’s one day, off chance, wild notion, life gets inadvertently full of little tangled limbs and skint knees who clamor for bedtime stories with sleepy eyes. “Break glass in case of kids,” it could say.

They are not children’s books. But, somehow, they are the books that belong to the world children inhabit already, the ones that give us, all grown up, merely a taste and a too-brief pass into the way we used to have the world ourselves.

This is one such book, striking and surreal and under glass. Perfect for now, and saved up for one day, maybe.

“It had been a time of snow and a time of death and of closed bedrooms— and she had arrived bang on the other side of it, her eyes dimming for joy because a boy had said, ‘You with the dimples.’

“Woodwind players are walking at the sides of the road. You walk as fast as you can, and wish at the same time that the road would never end.”