+ ¥257 配送料
残り1点 ご注文はお早めに 在庫状況について
この商品は、thebookcommunity が販売、発送します。
& 配送料無料
中古商品: 良い | 詳細
コンディション: 中古商品: 良い
この商品は1-Click注文できません。
この商品をお持ちですか? マーケットプレイスに出品する
裏表紙を表示 表紙を表示
サンプルを聴く 再生中... 一時停止   Audible オーディオエディションのサンプルをお聴きいただいています。
2点すべてのイメージを見る

著者をフォロー

何か問題が発生しました。後で再度リクエストしてください。


The Summons (英語) マスマーケット – 2002/12/17

5つ星のうち4.2 589個の評価

その他 の形式およびエディションを表示する 他の形式およびエディションを非表示にする
価格
新品 中古品
Kindle版 (電子書籍)
単行本 ¥1,320 ¥1
ペーパーバック ¥1,163 ¥468
マスマーケット, 2002/12/17
¥2,731
¥1,895 ¥858
用品 ¥6,165
お届け日: 7月9日 - 16日 詳細を見る
click to open popover

キャンペーンおよび追加情報

Kindle 端末は必要ありません。無料 Kindle アプリのいずれかをダウンロードすると、スマートフォン、タブレットPCで Kindle 本をお読みいただけます。

  • iOSアプリのダウンロードはこちらをクリック
    Apple
  • Androidアプリのダウンロードはこちらをクリック
    Android
  • Amazonアプリストアへはこちらをクリック
    Android

無料アプリを入手するには、Eメールアドレスを入力してください。

kcpAppSendButton

商品の説明

レビュー

The Summons ranks as my absolute favorite in many years...[with] an ending too delicious and morally instructive to give away.”—USA Today

“A pleasure to read...a good yarn.”—The Washington Post

抜粋

Chapter 1

It came by mail, regular postage, the old-fashioned way since the Judge was almost eighty and distrusted modern devices. Forget e-mail and even faxes. He didn't use an answering machine and had never been fond of the telephone. He pecked out his letters with both index fingers, one feeble key at a time, hunched over his old Underwood manual on a rolltop desk under the portrait of Nathan Bedford Forrest. The Judge's grandfather had fought with Forrest at Shiloh and throughout the Deep South, and to him no figure in history was more revered. For thirty-two years, the Judge had quietly refused to hold court on July 13, Forrest's birthday.

It came with another letter, a magazine, and two invoices, and was routinely placed in the law school mailbox of Professor Ray Atlee. He recognized it immediately since such envelopes had been a part of his life for as long as he could remember. It was from his father, a man he too called the Judge.

Professor Atlee studied the envelope, uncertain whether he should open it right there or wait a moment. Good news or bad, he never knew with the Judge, though the old man was dying and good news had been rare. It was thin and appeared to contain only one sheet of paper; nothing unusual about that. The Judge was frugal with the written word, though he'd once been known for his windy lectures from the bench.

It was a business letter, that much was certain. The Judge was not one for small talk, hated gossip and idle chitchat, whether written or spoken. Ice tea with him on the porch would be a refighting of the Civil War, probably at Shiloh, where he would once again lay all blame for the Confederate defeat at the shiny, untouched boots of General Pierre G. T. Beauregard, a man he would hate even in heaven, if by chance they met there.

He'd be dead soon. Seventy-nine years old with cancer in his stomach. He was overweight, a diabetic, a heavy pipe smoker, had a bad heart that had survived three attacks, and a host of lesser ailments that had tormented him for twenty years and were now finally closing in for the kill. The pain was constant. During their last phone call three weeks earlier, a call initiated by Ray because the Judge thought long distance was a rip-off, the old man sounded weak and strained. They had talked for less than two minutes.

The return address was gold-embossed: Chancellor Reuben V. Atlee, 25th Chancery District, Ford County Courthouse, Clanton, Mississippi. Ray slid the envelope into the magazine and began walking. Judge Atlee no longer held the office of chancellor. The voters had retired him nine years earlier, a bitter defeat from which he would never recover. Thirty-two years of diligent service to his people, and they tossed him out in favor of a younger man with radio and television ads. The Judge had refused to campaign. He claimed he had too much work to do, and, more important, the people knew him well and if they wanted to reelect him then they would do so. His strategy had seemed arrogant to many. He carried Ford County but got shellacked in the other five.

It took three years to get him out of the courthouse. His office on the second floor had survived a fire and had missed two renovations. The Judge had not allowed them to touch it with paint or hammers. When the county supervisors finally convinced him that he had to leave or be evicted, he boxed up three decades' worth of useless files and notes and dusty old books and took them home and stacked them in his study. When the study was full, he lined them down the hallways into the dining room and even the foyer.

Ray nodded to a student who was seated in the hall. Outside his office, he spoke to a colleague. Inside, he locked the door behind him and placed the mail in the center of his desk. He took off his jacket, hung it on the back of the door, stepped over a stack of thick law books he'd been stepping over for half a year, and then to himself uttered his daily vow to organize the place.

The room was twelve by fifteen, with a small desk and a small sofa, both covered with enough work to make Ray seem like a very busy man. He was not. For the spring semester he was teaching one section of antitrust. And he was supposed to be writing a book, another drab, tedious volume on monopolies that would be read by no one but would add handsomely to his pedigree. He had tenure, but like all serious professors he was ruled by the "publish or perish" dictum of academic life.

He sat at his desk and shoved papers out of the way.

The envelope was addressed to Professor N. Ray Atlee, University of Virginia School of Law, Charlottesville, Virginia. The e's and o's were smudged together. A new ribbon had been needed for a decade. The Judge didn't believe in zip codes either.

The N was for Nathan, after the general, but few people knew it. One of their uglier fights had been over the son's decision to drop Nathan altogether and plow through life simply as Ray.

The Judge's letters were always sent to the law school, never to his son's apartment in downtown Charlottesville. The Judge liked titles and important addresses, and he wanted folks in Clanton, even the postal workers, to know that his son was a professor of law. It was unnecessary. Ray had been teaching (and writing) for thirteen years, and those who mattered in Ford County knew it.

He opened the envelope and unfolded a single sheet of paper. It too was grandly embossed with the Judge's name and former title and address, again minus the zip code. The old man probably had an unlimited supply of the stationery.

It was addressed to both Ray and his younger brother, Forrest, the only two offspring of a bad marriage that had ended in 1969 with the death of their mother. As always, the message was brief:

Please make arrangements to appear in my study on Sunday, May 7, at 5 p.m., to discuss the administration of my estate. Sincerely, Reuben V. Atlee.

The distinctive signature had shrunk and looked unsteady. For years it had been emblazoned across orders and decrees that had changed countless lives. Decrees of divorce, child custody, termination of parental rights, adoptions. Orders settling will contests, election contests, land disputes, annexation fights. The Judge's autograph had been authoritative and well known; now it was the vaguely familiar scrawl of a very sick old man.

Sick or not, though, Ray knew that he would be present in his father's study at the appointed time. He had just been summoned, and as irritating as it was, he had no doubt that he and his brother would drag themselves before His Honor for one more lecture. It was typical of the Judge to pick a day that was convenient for him without consulting anybody else.

It was the nature of the Judge, and perhaps most judges for that matter, to set dates for hearings and deadlines with little regard for the convenience of others. Such heavy-handedness was learned and even required when dealing with crowded dockets, reluctant litigants, busy lawyers, lazy lawyers. But the Judge had run his family in pretty much the same manner as he'd run his courtroom, and that was the principal reason Ray Atlee was teaching law in Virginia and not practicing it in Mississippi.

He read the summons again, then put it away, on top of the pile of current matters to deal with. He walked to the window and looked out at the courtyard where everything was in bloom. He wasn't angry or bitter, just frustrated that his father could once again dictate so much. But the old man was dying, he told himself. Give him a break. There wouldn't be many more trips home.

The Judge's estate was cloaked with mystery. The principal asset was the house--an antebellum hand-me-down from the same Atlee who'd fought with General Forrest. On a shady street in old Atlanta it would be worth over a million dollars, but not in Clanton. It sat in the middle of five neglected acres three blocks off the town square. The floors sagged, the roof leaked, paint had not touched the walls in Ray's lifetime. He and his brother could sell it for perhaps a hundred thousand dollars, but the buyer would need twice that to make it livable. Neither would ever live there; in fact, Forrest had not set foot in the house in many years.

The house was called Maple Run, as if it were some grand estate with a staff and a social calendar. The last worker had been Irene the maid. She'd died four years earlier and since then no one had vacuumed the floors or touched the furniture with polish. The Judge paid a local felon twenty dollars a week to cut the grass, and he did so with great reluctance. Eighty dollars a month was robbery, in his learned opinion.

When Ray was a child, his mother referred to their home as Maple Run. They never had dinners at their home, but rather at Maple Run. Their address was not the Atlees on Fourth Street, but instead it was Maple Run on Fourth Street. Few other folks in Clanton had names for their homes.

She died from an aneurysm and they laid her on a table in the front parlor. For two days the town stopped by and paraded across the front porch, through the foyer, through the parlor for last respects, then to the dining room for punch and cookies. Ray and Forrest hid in the attic and cursed their father for tolerating such a spectacle. That was their mother lying down there, a pretty young woman now pale and stiff in an open coffin.

Forrest had always called it Maple Ruin. The red and yellow maples that once lined the street had died of some unknown disease. Their rotted stumps had never been cleared. Four huge oaks shaded the front lawn. They shed leaves by the ton, far too many for anyone to rake and gather. And at least twice a year the oaks would lose a branch that would fall and crash somewhere onto the house, where it might or might not get removed. The house stood there year after year, decade after decade, taking punches but never falling.

It was still a handsome house, a Georgian with columns, once a monument to those who'd built it, and now a sad reminder of a declining fami...

登録情報

カスタマーレビュー

5つ星のうち4.2
星5つ中の4.2
評価の数 589
Amazonは星評価をどのように計算しますか?

この商品をレビュー

他のお客様にも意見を伝えましょう
すべてのレビューを日本語に翻訳
2003年2月20日に日本でレビュー済み
Amazonで購入
2003年3月25日に日本でレビュー済み
Amazonで購入
12人のお客様がこれが役に立ったと考えています
コメント 違反を報告
殿堂入りVINEメンバー
2004年1月17日に日本でレビュー済み
Amazonで購入
4人のお客様がこれが役に立ったと考えています
コメント 違反を報告
2002年6月16日に日本でレビュー済み
Amazonで購入
5人のお客様がこれが役に立ったと考えています
コメント 違反を報告
2003年5月24日に日本でレビュー済み
Amazonで購入
2009年1月17日に日本でレビュー済み
2003年6月5日に日本でレビュー済み
6人のお客様がこれが役に立ったと考えています
コメント 違反を報告
ベスト1000レビュアー
2002年6月29日に日本でレビュー済み
6人のお客様がこれが役に立ったと考えています
コメント 違反を報告

海外のトップレビュー

Eukee
5つ星のうち1.0 First Grisham book, and the last for me!
2017年12月4日に英国でレビュー済み
Amazonで購入
8人のお客様がこれが役に立ったと考えています
フィードバックを送信中...
フィードバックをお寄せいただきありがとうございます。
違反を報告
Jim J-R
5つ星のうち3.0 Readable but frustrating and disappointing
2011年5月7日に英国でレビュー済み
Amazonで購入
4人のお客様がこれが役に立ったと考えています
フィードバックを送信中...
フィードバックをお寄せいただきありがとうございます。
違反を報告
Berkeley
5つ星のうち1.0 Ignore 'The Summons'
2018年7月26日に英国でレビュー済み
Amazonで購入
3人のお客様がこれが役に立ったと考えています
フィードバックを送信中...
フィードバックをお寄せいただきありがとうございます。
違反を報告
Christine L
5つ星のうち3.0 Grisham's losing his magic touch
2002年2月15日に英国でレビュー済み
Amazonで購入
9人のお客様がこれが役に立ったと考えています
フィードバックを送信中...
フィードバックをお寄せいただきありがとうございます。
違反を報告
Julie Benjamin
5つ星のうち5.0 Read it in one sitting
2017年10月29日に英国でレビュー済み
Amazonで購入
2人のお客様がこれが役に立ったと考えています
フィードバックを送信中...
フィードバックをお寄せいただきありがとうございます。
違反を報告
Stephanie Johnson
5つ星のうち5.0 Classic Grisham,
2018年10月9日に英国でレビュー済み
Amazonで購入
フィードバックを送信中...
フィードバックをお寄せいただきありがとうございます。
違反を報告
Gasflash
5つ星のうち2.0 Gripes like Grisham
2014年2月1日に英国でレビュー済み
Amazonで購入
1人のお客様がこれが役に立ったと考えています
フィードバックを送信中...
フィードバックをお寄せいただきありがとうございます。
違反を報告
les pickersgill
5つ星のうち1.0 Disappointing
2020年2月12日に英国でレビュー済み
Amazonで購入
フィードバックを送信中...
フィードバックをお寄せいただきありがとうございます。
違反を報告
Philip Northfield
5つ星のうち4.0 Another enjoyable page turner
2016年11月27日に英国でレビュー済み
Amazonで購入
フィードバックを送信中...
フィードバックをお寄せいただきありがとうございます。
違反を報告
Lambert
5つ星のうち4.0 Reading
2019年7月24日に英国でレビュー済み
Amazonで購入
フィードバックを送信中...
フィードバックをお寄せいただきありがとうございます。
違反を報告
peggie
5つ星のうち5.0 A good read
2019年12月25日に英国でレビュー済み
Amazonで購入
フィードバックを送信中...
フィードバックをお寄せいただきありがとうございます。
違反を報告
pip
5つ星のうち4.0 Very Grisham
2019年3月24日に英国でレビュー済み
Amazonで購入
1人のお客様がこれが役に立ったと考えています
フィードバックを送信中...
フィードバックをお寄せいただきありがとうございます。
違反を報告
Hans Peterburs
5つ星のうち5.0 The Summons
2019年3月12日に英国でレビュー済み
Amazonで購入
フィードバックを送信中...
フィードバックをお寄せいただきありがとうございます。
違反を報告
Elizabeth R.
5つ星のうち5.0 Great author
2020年2月26日に英国でレビュー済み
Amazonで購入
フィードバックを送信中...
フィードバックをお寄せいただきありがとうございます。
違反を報告
NAME_jgq140NOT_RETURNED
5つ星のうち5.0 Excellent story
2019年11月10日に英国でレビュー済み
Amazonで購入
フィードバックを送信中...
フィードバックをお寄せいただきありがとうございます。
違反を報告