Fup - Dodge, Jim
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There's Grandaddy Jake Santee, 99 years old, an unreformed gambler, cranky reprobate and fierce opponent of the work ethic. Thanks to his home-distilled hooch, Ol' Death Whisper, he reckons he's in with good shot at immortality. And then there's Tiny, adopted at the age of four by Grandaddy Jake, a giant young man as gentle as Jake is belligerent.
And then there's Fup, an uncompromising twenty-pound mallard, partial to a drink herself, whose unique presence transforms the Santee household.
Hilarious, heartwarming and magical, Fup is a contemporary fable that inspires an almost…mehr

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Produktbeschreibung
There's Grandaddy Jake Santee, 99 years old, an unreformed gambler, cranky reprobate and fierce opponent of the work ethic. Thanks to his home-distilled hooch, Ol' Death Whisper, he reckons he's in with good shot at immortality. And then there's Tiny, adopted at the age of four by Grandaddy Jake, a giant young man as gentle as Jake is belligerent.

And then there's Fup, an uncompromising twenty-pound mallard, partial to a drink herself, whose unique presence transforms the Santee household.

Hilarious, heartwarming and magical, Fup is a contemporary fable that inspires an almost evangelical fervour in all who read it. It is a work of enormous originality with a giant heart.
Autorenporträt
Jim Dodge is the author of three novels, including Fup and Not Fade Away, and a collection of poetry and short prose, Rain on the River. He lived for many years on an isolated ranch in western Sonoma County and has been by turns an apple picker, a carpet layer, a teacher, a professional gambler, a shepherd for five years, a woodcutter and an environmental restorer.
Rezensionen
I was a "wilderness educator" back in Texas in the mid-eighties . . . At night I used to read these tough, streetwise kids to sleep - Catcher in the Rye, The Grapes of Wrath, and a fable called Fup by Jim Dodge. They loved Fup in particular, a fable about a duck . . . I still hear from these kids - they're all over the country now and generally they're out of trouble, except for the fact that they might be reading Fup to their kids Colum McCann Paris Review