Minggu, 11 November 2012

[E941.Ebook] Ebook Download Marcella, by Marilyn Coffey

Ebook Download Marcella, by Marilyn Coffey

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Marcella, by Marilyn Coffey

Marcella, by Marilyn Coffey



Marcella, by Marilyn Coffey

Ebook Download Marcella, by Marilyn Coffey

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Marcella, by Marilyn Coffey

Marcella has stumbled into puberty. She’s grown too old to play with toys but is still too young for boys. Songs, Christianity, and curiosity at her changing body fill her time. She practices the piano, talks to her God and, alone in her bedroom, she explores. “At first she didn’t allow it very often, only once every two or three nights, but gradually she let herself...oh, every night, after she’d said her prayers.” Then she finds out there’s a name for what she does, that it’s a bad thing to do, and that God prohibits it, even though it feels so delightful... Marcella is the candid and unrestrained story of a school girl and her emotions, of the war of an innocent morality with a grown-up sexuality, plus all the bewilderment of dread, inexperience, and shame she experiences as she battles her way into womanhood.

  • Sales Rank: #5747720 in Books
  • Published on: 2012-09-19
  • Original language: English
  • Number of items: 1
  • Dimensions: 9.00" h x .59" w x 6.00" l, .77 pounds
  • Binding: Paperback
  • 234 pages

About the Author
Hi! Just so you know, my books and poems are either nice--or naughty. My nice books are histories of the truly amazing Great Plains, including the Orphan Trains and county seat wars. Sex rears its head in my naughty works. Plus I think I should tell you that I'm a personal writer. I don't write much that doesn't have an intimate feeling to it, that isn't centered, in some way, on my history. My life began in Alma, a tiny town in south central Nebraska, where I was born and raised. As I lay in bed, listening to my mother read me to sleep, I fell in love with words. Mom read oodles of books to me. My favorite was "The Farm Twins" by Lucy Fitch Perkins. When I turned eleven years old, I decided to be a writer.

At twenty-one, I graduated from the University of Nebraska with a journalism degree. Then I read Jack Kerouac's "On the Road." Struck with the travel bug, I set out, saw Denver, New Orleans, San Diego, Portland, and New York. I lived in New York City for thirty years, where I taught writing at Pratt Institute, and earned a degree in creative writing from Brooklyn College. 

Now I'm back in Nebraska, located in Omaha. I'm a retired professor doing what I love best: writing full time. When I'm not pounding away at my computer, I can usually be found reading, pulling weeds, talking to my cat, or hanging out with my partner, Jack Loscutoff, also a writer. I have become an award winning and internationally published writer of poetry and prose who has written six books, six hundred poems, and hundreds of articles and stories. My awards include a national Pushcart Prize for my poem called "Pricksong," a Master Alumnus award for distinction in writing from the University of Nebraska, and the National Orphan Train Complex's Special President's Award for my biography, Mail-Order Kid. My "naughty" book, Marcella, is the first novel written in English that uses autoeroticism as its main theme. My writing has appeared in Australia, Canada, Denmark, England, India, and Japan.

Most helpful customer reviews

1 of 1 people found the following review helpful.
Marcella...Oh, dear Marcella!
By R. Russell Bittner
Almost from the outset, Marilyn Coffey's MARCELLA put me in mind of Carson McCullers's MEMBER OF THE WEDDING. In that novel, McCullers's principal character, Frankie Addams, is roughly the same age as Marcella and wrestles with many of the same demons. And although both stories are sadly revelatory of the inner contortions a girl must pass through on her way out of childhood and into adolescence, this is where the similarities end.

Coffey's character (the eponymous Marcella) is more explicitly drawn--perhaps indicative of the age in which we live and of what a writer can now permit herself to express in print. I should perhaps mention, however, that what I've just read is the 40th Anniversary Edition. Given that Marcella first appeared in 1973, I'd venture to say that Coffey was way ahead of her time.

The backdrop of Marcella Colby's story--her younger sister, Lucille, her parents, her home life in general--suggests a sterile field in which anguish and obsession would inevitably take root and flourish. While a sympathetic reader might wish for a mother (the father almost doesn't bear mention--and so, Coffey gives him short shrift) whose same gender, at least, would render her a willing partner in Marcella's awkward passage through early adolescence, all we get is a wooden prop, a virtual cipher. Marcella's mother is, in short, deadwood -- and Marcella is consequently set adrift to find her own emotional moorings.

At the prompting of a school acquaintance, Marcella happens to wander into a church. Not just any church, mind you, but an Evangelical church. Her epiphany -- this day and this place in which she is "saved" by a certain Brother Morgan and his retinue -- only serves to contort her mind further and to make her entirely beholden to an all-seeing, all-knowing God. It is, moreover, Marcella's now fervent belief in this omniscient and omnipresent Being that drives her, by degrees, deeper and deeper down into a cauldron of shame for what she feels is a blasphemy of the most heinous and despicable sort: the discovery, through masturbation, that she is a sentient being. Unfortunately, however, and in the absence of someone to tell her differently, she can conceive of her masturbation only as a "filthy, perverted habit" (p. 192).

Enter Brother Morgan (aka "Big Jim") once again--but now as what Marcella perceives to be an almost heaven-sent guide, protector and trustworthy confidant. Their communication opens in letters that Marcella is only too happy to write--frequently, imploringly, keeping almost lockstep pace with her autoerotic sessions--and leads to an invitation to spend a couple of weeks far from home at a camp for young Christians. Brother Morgan indeed delivers. But what he delivers in the form of temporary relief and happiness is something those more world-weary readers among us will likely find suspect from the get-go. I, for one, wasn't in the least surprised when, on the occasion of a one-night sleep-away at the conclusion of Marcella's two-week stay at "Big Jim's" camp in Colorado, the absence of his wife, May, and the absence of a sleeping bag for Marcella quite predictably led to Brother Morgan's laying on of hands (please excuse the obvious double entendre).

Marcella returns home the next day--not precisely deflowered, but spiritually and emotionally debauched.

Is MARCELLA in any sense a didactic story? Is this novel a Bildungsroman of the sort that was once so popular in German literature? Only in the sense that we, as readers, can feel the anguish of Marcella and wish -- as she does at one point late in the story -- that it might somehow be possible to turn the clock backwards. Turn it backwards--or force it to jump ahead to a point where Marcella will no longer be demonized by her own fingers and tormented by the knowledge that she may be less than "a perfect Christian" (p. 191).

I'll now resist the temptation to describe the final chapters of Marilyn Coffey's novel. Better you should read it for yourself to discover Marcella's fate. What I will say by way of conclusion, however, is that the forty years of social progress we've enjoyed since this novel's first appearance made much of it feel almost medieval in its depiction of character and event. Let's hope that by the time the 80th Anniversary Edition appears, some of those same characters and events will feel positively pre-historical.

0 of 1 people found the following review helpful.
Controversial, insightful, pure Marilyn
By Sandra Wendel
The revival of a 40-year-old book that should have been a classic in its time (but was well before its time) and never received the recognition it deserves. Now the world is ready for Marcella's juvenile insights, and Marilyn Coffey strips her soul bare in a literary gem.

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