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A forgotten childhood. A discovered life. What if you only had one day to find out who you really were? When Sabrina Boggs stumbles upon a mysterious collection of her father’s possessions, she discovers a truth where she never knew there was a lie. The familiar man she grew up with is suddenly a stranger to her. An unexpected break in her monotonous daily routine leaves her just one day to unlock the secrets of the man she thought she knew.

A day that unearths memories, stories and people she never knew existed. A day that changes her and those around her forever. The Marble Collector is a thought-provoking novel about how the most ordinary decisions we make can have the most extraordinary consequences for how we live our lives.

And how sometimes it’s only by shining on a light on someone else, that you can truly understand yourself. Enter Now. In addition to our Lovereading expert opinion some of our Reader Review Panel were also lucky enough to read and review this title.

You can click here to read the full reviews. Moving, real and exquisitely crafted. View All Editions. Cecelia Ahern was our Guest Editor in October – click here – to see the books that inspired her writing. Cecelia Ahern was born and grew up in Dublin. Before embarking on her writing career, Cecelia Ahern completed a degree in journalism and media studies.

PS, I Love You was one of the biggest-selling debuts of recent years and a number 1 bestseller. PS, I Love You The Mirror Man Lars Kepler.

The Marble Collector by Cecelia Ahern. I practise and practise in the small room, in my own little world, wanting my skill and accuracy to be the best in the school. The next time Father Murphy puts me in here I have the marbles hidden in my pocket and I spend the day practising again.

I also have an archboard in the dark room. I put it there myself between classes, just in case. The middle arch is number 0, the arches either side are 1, 2, 3.

I put the archboard at the far wall and I shoot from a distance, close to the door. I will be better than my big brothers at something. I like him.

He gave me my first marbles, my bloodies. In a dark time in my life, he gave me my allies. Sometimes I have to remind myself to breathe. I understand the theory of breathing. The air you breathe in through your nose should go all the way down to your belly, the diaphragm. Breathe relaxed. Breathe rhythmically. Breathe silently. We do this from the second we are born and yet we are never taught.

Though I should have been. Whatever it is, it never comes. It is ironic that on dry ground I fail at this simple task when my job requires me to excel at it. With swimming, timing is everything. On land you breathe in for one and out for one, beneath the water I can achieve a three to one ratio, breathing every three strokes. I had to learn how to breathe above water when I was pregnant with my first child. It was necessary for labour, they told me, which it turns out it certainly is.

Because childbirth is as natural as breathing, they go hand in hand, yet breathing, for me, has been anything but natural. All I ever want to do above water is hold my breath. A baby will not be born through holding your breath.

Trust me, I tried. Knowing my aquatic ways, my husband encouraged a water birth. This seemed like a good idea to get me in my natural territory, at home, in water, only there is nothing natural about sitting in an oversized paddling pool in your living room, and it was the baby who got to experience the world from below the water and not me. I would have gladly switched places. It is quite the exclusive nursing home, like a four-star hotel with round-the-clock care.

I have worked here for seven years, give or take my maternity leave. I man the lifeguard chair five days a week from nine a. It is a steady stream of monotony and stillness. Nothing ever happens. Bodies appear from the changing rooms as walking displays of the reality of time: saggy skin, boobs, bottoms and thighs, some dry and flaking from diabetes, others from kidney or liver disease.

Those confined to their beds or chairs for so long wear their painful-looking pressure ulcers and bedsores, others carry their brown patches of age spots as badges of the years they have lived.

New skin growths appear and change by the day. I see them all, with the full understanding of what my body after three babies will face in the future. Those with one-on-one physiotherapy work with trainers in the water, I merely oversee; in case the therapist drowns, I suppose. In the seven years I have rarely had to dive in. It is a quiet, slow swimming pool, certainly nothing like the local pool I bring my boys to on a Saturday where you leave with a headache from the shouts that echo from the filled-to-the-brim group classes.

I stifle a yawn as I watch the first swimmer in the early morning. Mary Kelly, the dredger, is doing her favourite move: the breaststroke. It is always the same people at the same times. I know that Mr Daly will soon arrive, followed by Mr Kennedy aka the Butterfly King who fancies himself as a bit of an expert, then sisters Eliza and Audrey Jones who jog widths of the shallow end for twenty minutes.

I fiddle with a pair of goggles, unknotting the strap, reminding myself to breathe, pushing away the hard, tight feeling in my chest that only goes away when I remember to exhale. Mr Daly steps out of the changing room andonto the tiles, 9. He wears his budgie smugglers, an unforgiving light blue that reveal the minutiae when wet. His skin hangs loosely around his eyes, cheeks and jowls. His yellow toenails curl painfully into his skin.

He gives me a miserable look and adjusts his goggles over his eyes. I imagine him on the tiles, his bones snapping up through his tracing-paper-like skin, skin crackly like a roasted chicken. I keep one eye on him and the other on Mary, who is letting out a loud grunting sound with each stroke like she is Maria Sharapova. Mr Daly reaches the steps, takes hold of the rail and lowers himself slowly into the water. His nostrils flare as the cold hits him. I see him, clear as day, practically on his knees in the shallow end, trying to drown himself.

This is a daily occurrence. I make my way to Mr Daly at the steps. I reach into the water and grab him under his arms and pull him up. He is so light he comes up easily, gasping for air, eyes wild behind his goggles, a big green snot bubble in his right nostril.

He lifts his goggles off his head and empties them of water, grunting, grumbling, his body shaking with rage that I have once again foiled his dastardly plan. His face is purple and his chest heaves up and down as he tries to catch his breath.

He reminds me of my three-year-old who always hides in the same place and then gets annoyed when I find him. This happens every day. This is all that happens. Eric smiles against his better judgement and shakes his head to show he disapproves. His mother on her deathbed brought him back home to Ireland and then his mother surviving has made him stay.

He jokes that she will outlive him, though I can sense a nervousness on his part that this will indeed be the case. I think he walks to the sound of maracas in his head. Open navigation menu.

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Explore Documents. Enjoy millions of ebooks, audiobooks, magazines, and more. Start your free days Read preview. Publisher: HarperCollins UK. Released: Nov 5, ISBN: Format: Book. Also available as Literary Fiction. About the author CA. Read more. Related Books. Related Podcast Episodes. Exploring Reader’s Legacy by Brand Architect 35 min listen. Ep – Palimpsest, by Catherynne M.

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Dark Humor. A box of bloodies. The bell rings, class over. Chapter 2: Pool Rules Breathe. Did I? Maybe a second longer than usual. Start your free days. Reviews What people think about The Marble Collector 4.

Rate as 1 out of 5, I didn’t like it at all. Rate as 2 out of 5, I didn’t like it that much. Rate as 3 out of 5, I thought it was OK.

Rate as 4 out of 5, I liked it. Rate as 5 out of 5, I loved it. Rating: 0 out of 5 stars. Write a review optional. Reader reviews ilonita It seems weird now, as I have rated the book with 4 stars, but till the middle of the book I literary hated the book, the language style most characters were speaking, although drawing perfect picture of the plot – I assume following the stereotype, so to say – I could not stand the rudeness, offensive style. Well, thankfully that changed.

The books is about how a daughter receives his father’s belongings in neatly and organized boxes through a courier, discovering new boxes being added – which leads to complete HIDDEN possessions of his father, who is now in nursing home after having stroke and have lost memory over some occasions. Through the book we learn of episodes her father remembers and tries to put together.

Sabrina, the daughter then tries to place the story in backwards by travelling miles to figure out how the boxes ended up in the state like this. She has her day off, free from kids and work and it determined to make it happen today and really does puts an effort. This is mystery puzzled book, there’s no murder cases but a simple mystery of Sabrina’s father Fergus. I loved the idea behind, that one person can be mysterious all his life due his own personal style of growing up, the influence of his family and outside world.

How one does everything to hide something that is precious to him and means the whole world, where’s for the others it’s a “kids game”. I started to like Fergus role a little bit when I was given information how he sees his world, how he layers? If you are collecting something or have an important hobby for example, books and the order how you keep your shelves, which genres you are reading etc.

It was interesting and completely surprising to find out his reasons, it was surprising to learn what’s behind. However, I judge the main character for blind eyes and ears to what his ex-wife has been asking, acting as if cheating and keeping his whole life as a secret. But it also made me think how obvious the behavior pattern was for cheating, well, true, but not in traditional way.

Just so you know.

 
 

Marble collector book review free. The Marble Collector

 

Print length. Publication date. See all details. Next page. Frequently bought together. Total price:. To see our price, add these items to your cart. One of these items is dispatched sooner than the other. Show details Hide details. Choose items to buy together. This item: The Marble Collector. FREE Delivery. Only 2 left in stock. Freckles: The uplifting and emotional Sunday Times top ten bestseller from million-copy bestselling author Cecelia Ahern.

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Lyrebird: An uplifting, summer read by the Sunday Times bestseller. Cecelia Ahern. Min purchase value INR Please check ‘EMI options’ above for more details. Here’s how No cost EMI available on select cards. Sign up for free Here’s how. She lives in Dublin with her family. Start reading The Marble Collector on your Kindle in under a minute. Don’t have a Kindle? About the author Follow authors to get new release updates, plus improved recommendations.

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Images in this review. Reviews with images. See all customer images. Top reviews Most recent Top reviews. Top reviews from India. There was a problem filtering reviews right now. Please try again later. Verified Purchase. An example of how fiction can make you realise the mistake you’re making in real life and what can be the long term consequences of it..

It’s a great product! And The price range is too good. Give her anything, and she turns it into a masterpiece! Twelve novels, and twelve new adventure for the readers!

The best thing I felt about Cecelia Ahern’s books was that how easily I could step into the shoes of the character. I never felt like reading, I actually felt involved. The Marble Collector is a unique story of a man’s journey, narrated in Cecelia’s usual witty way. Fast Delivery and Order received as described. Thank you. I gifted this to my niece I must read for teenagers.

The book was nice. See all reviews. Top reviews from other countries. What you need to know about me: I love and have read all of Cecelia’s books. I also enjoyed this one a great deal. I liked the characters especially the Boggs family and I even enjoyed the theme surprisingly as I have never been that interested in marbles. I powered through this book in a couple of days while on holiday – hoping for some sort of conclusion. Would her dad recover from the stroke and remember his double life?

Share on:. As usual, Ahern manages to find, and more importantly, to convey the beauty that lies in what is everyday and mundane. In this case, marbles, shining, delicate and intricately crafted, lie at the centre of a personal journey. Fergus Boggs, divorcee and father to Sabrina, is recovering from a stroke, which has affected his memory.

Day by day, old faces must reacquaint themselves, and with each remark that draws a blank, Fergus is presented with the scope of all that he has forgotten. Meanwhile, Sabrina has become stuck in a rut; she waits, not quite sure for what exactly, and spends her days working and then tending to her sons and husband.

Something, however, is missing in life and she stands on the outside observing rather than really living. With an unexpected day to spare Sabrina is presented with some boxes. As she peers inside she uncovers not only a valuable marble collection, but also a father very different from the one she thinks she knows, and a whole lot about herself for good measure. The story of Fergus is poignant, witty and ultimately very relatable.

In a bid to better himself Fergus feels compelled time and again to hide his true self and to aim instead to be the man he believes other people expect him to be. Over time this has led to his feeling like a stranger from his loved ones, and to a splitting of himself.

This is a strain that becomes unbearable. Time, however, is not on his side and just as Fergus seeks to reveal his life to his daughter he suffers a stroke resulting in the ultimate loss, that of his story from himself. His loves and passions, memories and interests are buried with little hope of being rescued. Until, that is, those shiny marbles mysteriously find their way back into the present. As we alternate between father and daughter we begin to uncover the history of Fergus, piece-by-piece, just as he has hidden it over many years.

Written with effective symmetry, as he begins to remember, Sabrina begins to uncover.

 

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With an unexpected day to spare Sabrina is presented with some boxes. As she peers inside she uncovers not only a valuable marble collection, but also a father. This is a nice contemporary story that focuses on finding yourself and finding those you love. This was a real page-turner for me and such quick.