A Ladder to the Sky | Page 1 of 239

Author: John Boyne | Submitted by: Maria Garcia | 22676 Views | Add a Review

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About the Book

If you look hard enough, you can find stories pretty much anywhere. They don’t even have to be your own. Or so would-be writer Maurice Swift decides very early on in his career.

A chance encounter in a Berlin hotel with celebrated novelist Erich Ackerman gives him an opportunity to ingratiate himself with someone more powerful than him. For Erich is lonely, and he has a story to tell. Whether or not he should is another matter.

Once Maurice has made his name, he sets off in pursuit of other people’s stories. He doesn’t care where he finds them – or to whom they belong – as long as they help him rise to the top. Stories will make him famous, but they will also make him beg, borrow and steal. They may even make him do worse.

A dark and twisted psychological drama, A Ladder to the Sky shows how easy it is to achieve the world if you are prepared to sacrifice your soul.



About the Book

Title Page


Part I: Before the Wall Came Down


1. West Berlin

2. Copenhagen

3. Rome

4. Madrid

5. Paris

6. New York

7. Amsterdam

8. West Berlin


The Swallow’s Nest

Part II: The Tribesman


1. September

2. October

3. November

4. December

5. January

6. February

7. March

8. Now


The Threatened Animal

Part III: Other People’s Stories


1. The Crown, Brewer Street

2. The Queen’s Head, Denman Street

3. The Coach and Horses, Greek Street

4. The Lamb and Flag, Rose Street

5. The Dog and Duck, Bateman Street

6. The Cross Keys, Covent Garden

7. HM Prison Belmarsh


About the Author

Also by John Boyne




to the Sky


For Stephen Walsh



‘All things which take place in the sexual sphere are not the private affair of the individual, but signify the life and death of the nation.’

– Heinrich Himmler

1. West Berlin

From the moment I accepted the invitation, I was nervous about returning to Germany. It had been so many years since I’d last been there, after all, that it was difficult to know what memories might be stirred up by my return.

It was the spring of 1988, the year the word ‘perestroika’ entered the language, and I was seated in the bar of the Savoy Hotel on Fasanenstraße, contemplating my sixty-sixth birthday, which was only a few weeks away. On the table before me, a bottle of Riesling had been decanted into a coupe glass that, a note in the menu revealed, had been modelled on the left breast of Marie

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user comment image
Great book, nicely written and thank you BooksVooks for uploading

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