City of Orange
(Sprache: Englisch)
A man wakes up in an unknown landscape, injured and alone.
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A man wakes up in an unknown landscape, injured and alone.He used to live in a place called California, but how did he wind up here with a head wound and a bottle of pills in his pocket?
He navigates his surroundings, one rough shape at a time. Here lies a pipe, there a reed that could be carved into a weapon, beyond a city he once lived in.
He could swear his daughter s name began with a J, but what was it, exactly?
Then he encounters an old man, a crow, and a boy and realizes that nothing is what he thought it was, neither the present nor the past.
He can t even recall the features of his own face, and wonders: who am I?
Harrowing and haunting but also humorous in the face of the unfathomable, David Yoon s City of Orange is a novel about reassembling the things that make us who we are, and finding the way home again.
Lese-Probe zu „City of Orange “
OneHe awakes with his eyes closed.
He senses light all around him and is reluctant to expose his sight to the brightness. His head pulses with pain. He lies on his back, half-sunken in the earth. The back of his head feels crushed. It can be slowly leaking blood for all he knows, hot and thick like dark oil sinking into the sand.
Sand. This is sand, he thinks. He makes a fist with his right hand, idly plays with it. Warm and fine. Glue it to card stock and you get sandpaper. Fire it up and you get glass. Mix it with limestone and you can sculpt buildings and bridges out of it.
You can build a whole civilization.
His eyes slit open to a blinding sun. It takes a second for him to comprehend. There's a blue sky, a white sun in it. There's a concrete wall floating above him, enormous and massive and silent.
Wait. Not a wall. He grits his teeth, lifts his head an inch. The pain changes shape in that moment. His head drips with it. His eyes steady.
It's some kind of bridge. Concrete, bleached white in the sun, spanning a wide trench carved from the same colorless material. An inverted trapezoidal channel. River? Riverbed? Lying asleep in a bed, but a river?
Oh please let his head not be bleeding. He settles it back down again into its divot, as if sand can stop the flow.
He sweeps his right hand back and forth. Now with the left hand. This is called something. Except in snow. Snow angels? When he was little, he and a bunch of other kids had swept out angels in frosty winter mountains somewhere. He remembered he had to go super bad, but he was so fascinated by the snow that he'd held it, not like the others who tried to write their names in steaming yellow. It'd been a field trip for city children unfamiliar with cold weather. Junior high school, holy shit. What letter did the name of the school start with?
A? B? C? D?
Elemeno-pee?
And his name? This
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particular individual lying here in the sand. Maybe dying here in the sand.
He tests the dead batteries of his memory. He can remember a few fundamentals without much effort: These are called fingers, this is sand, this is his head. This is Earth, he is male, he lives in a place called California, USA, planet Earth, the Milky Way, the Universe, da dada dada. But anything beyond those basic facts remains out of view.
That's the sun up there.
There is the sky.
Here is a blank river of concrete a hundred meters wide.
Nothing else.
Two
When he does stand, it's like hoisting a corpse with puppet strings.
First he props up his torso with his elbows. Then he pushes off the sand. That alone is an excruciating project. Next his legs, folding up, then his arms extending so that he can now sit upright. Another moment, eyes squeezed shut with pain, before rising to a full standing position.
His mind is a flickering television screen, a storm of digital static occasionally breaking to reveal things he can't see coming. He wishes he could turn it off. He touches the back of his head. Why am I touching the back of my head? he wonders. To find a power button?
No, to check for signs of trauma. Someone taught him this once, called it survival first aid. Hit your head, run through the steps, find out if you are a survivor. First: is there blood?
With dread, he notices his hair feels wet.
He doesn't want to look at his hand.
So he observes his surroundings instead. Ob-zurvz. Sir-roundings. This is a good test, like a startup sequence. He tries recalling larger words, and more blip into existence.
Embankment. Aqueduct. Desertification.
The concrete channel looks as if it's been scrubbed white by an epoch of sandstorms.
He tests the dead batteries of his memory. He can remember a few fundamentals without much effort: These are called fingers, this is sand, this is his head. This is Earth, he is male, he lives in a place called California, USA, planet Earth, the Milky Way, the Universe, da dada dada. But anything beyond those basic facts remains out of view.
That's the sun up there.
There is the sky.
Here is a blank river of concrete a hundred meters wide.
Nothing else.
Two
When he does stand, it's like hoisting a corpse with puppet strings.
First he props up his torso with his elbows. Then he pushes off the sand. That alone is an excruciating project. Next his legs, folding up, then his arms extending so that he can now sit upright. Another moment, eyes squeezed shut with pain, before rising to a full standing position.
His mind is a flickering television screen, a storm of digital static occasionally breaking to reveal things he can't see coming. He wishes he could turn it off. He touches the back of his head. Why am I touching the back of my head? he wonders. To find a power button?
No, to check for signs of trauma. Someone taught him this once, called it survival first aid. Hit your head, run through the steps, find out if you are a survivor. First: is there blood?
With dread, he notices his hair feels wet.
He doesn't want to look at his hand.
So he observes his surroundings instead. Ob-zurvz. Sir-roundings. This is a good test, like a startup sequence. He tries recalling larger words, and more blip into existence.
Embankment. Aqueduct. Desertification.
The concrete channel looks as if it's been scrubbed white by an epoch of sandstorms.
... weniger
Autoren-Porträt von David Yoon
David Yoon is the New York Times bestselling author of Frankly in Love, Super Fake Love Song, and for adult readers, Version Zero and City of Orange. He s a William C. Morris Award finalist and an Asian/Pacific American Award for Young Adult Literature Honor book recipient. He's co-publisher of Joy Revolution, a Random House young adult imprint dedicated to love stories starring people of color. He's also co-founder of Yooniverse Media, which currently has a first look deal with Anonymous Content for film/TV development. David grew up in Orange County, California, and now lives in Los Angeles with his wife, novelist Nicola Yoon, and their daughter.
Bibliographische Angaben
- Autor: David Yoon
- 2022, Internationale Ausgabe, 352 Seiten, Maße: 15,1 x 22,7 cm, Kartoniert (TB), Englisch
- Verlag: Penguin Random House
- ISBN-10: 059354207X
- ISBN-13: 9780593542071
- Erscheinungsdatum: 19.05.2022
Sprache:
Englisch
Pressezitat
"Very few postapocalyptic novels have the literary qualities of this one. City of Orange belongs in a very narrow category, alongside Emily St. John s Station Eleven, Richard Matheson s I Am Legend and Cormac McCarthy s The Road. Like all the best authors in the genre, David Yoon is willing to ask what the End of the World really means and provide the reader with a thoughtful, heartfelt answer."SF Chronicle
"Haunting."
TIME magazine
"Yoon finds the tension in the smallest of acts like heating up a can of soup and builds suspense by teasing out information about the world, forcing readers to question everything. Fans of The Martian will enjoy this new take on the struggle to survive in an unfamiliar land."
Publishers Weekly
One of Crime Reads' "10 Most Captivating Apocalypse Novels"
Whether it s discovering shelter, finding food or simply managing in brutal conditions, the ever-challenging backdrop of City of Orange makes the determining of reality a mystery readers will want to solve alongside the main character. That s this novel s biggest feat: By giving just enough vivid detail but keeping key elements ambiguous, a reader can easily morph into the main character and become a part of this world.
USA Today
City of Orange is a fast-paced read, and Yoon s ability to lighten the mood keeps it from becoming as dread-inducing as some end-of-the-world novels can be.
LA Times
In this new novel, a nameless man wakes up in an apocalyptic landscape with no idea how he got there. Suffice to say, nothing is as it seems in this thought-provoking read.
Country Living
Very few postapocalyptic novels have the literary qualities of this one David Yoon is willing to ask what the End of the World really means and provide the reader with a thoughtful, heartfelt answer.
SF Chronicle
City of Orange also raises
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questions about time and money and the stuff humans accumulate, while sharpening the focus on what really matters: family, love and enduring friendships. Despite its dark premise, City of Orange insists on hope and continuity in the face of tragedy.
Shelf Awareness (starred)
Much more compelling and heartfelt than the end of the world could ever be.
Kirkus Reviews
An ambitious novel that takes some big risks...they pay off dramatically in the end.
Booklist
Post-apocalyptic but with a sense of humor.
Betches
A thoughtful apocalyptic story with a slight twist.
BuzzFeed
Subtle and stark twists push an often unhurried narrative more sharply into focus so that, by its conclusion, readers realize that the end of life as we know it might just be the end of life as we thought we knew it.
Vulture
Yoon s care for his character is evident in each word. Motions as mundane as opening up a tin can, or running out to relieve oneself can become as intense as a knife fight.
Locus Magazine
David Yoon has written a tale of love and survival, perfect for the untethered nature of our times.
The Mystery of Writing
Shelf Awareness (starred)
Much more compelling and heartfelt than the end of the world could ever be.
Kirkus Reviews
An ambitious novel that takes some big risks...they pay off dramatically in the end.
Booklist
Post-apocalyptic but with a sense of humor.
Betches
A thoughtful apocalyptic story with a slight twist.
BuzzFeed
Subtle and stark twists push an often unhurried narrative more sharply into focus so that, by its conclusion, readers realize that the end of life as we know it might just be the end of life as we thought we knew it.
Vulture
Yoon s care for his character is evident in each word. Motions as mundane as opening up a tin can, or running out to relieve oneself can become as intense as a knife fight.
Locus Magazine
David Yoon has written a tale of love and survival, perfect for the untethered nature of our times.
The Mystery of Writing
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