"I know I said I do not regret anything I have done in my life. However, after the contemplation that adjoins the writing of one’s memoirs, I do now have one regret, something I did not do..." Raised in an unconventional environment, Ahab Cormier travels with determination along two parallel paths: finding his ultimate conquest and tracking down the man who killed his mother. His unquenchable erotic desires lead to several failed marriages and a physical transformation that further fuels his obsessions. But his dogged pursuit of the man who could be his father ends in a crippling accident that results in a life-changing encounter and a stunning announcement that forces him to reflect on his life as a broken man.
Genre: FICTION / GeneralMy name is Ahab Cormier—yes, you read that correctly, Ahab—as in the fictional captain conceived by Herman Melville. My mother, always the avid reader, just happened to be deeply engrossed in Moby Dick at the time of my birth. But before you condemn my mother for the unusual (and some might say, cruel) name she bestowed upon me, remember that it could have been worse—she could have been reading Jude the Obscure or even Beowulf. If my name were Grendel would my life have been far different? My surname, Cormier, is French-Canadian, or so I am told. My father was originally from the province of Quebec, but as a child I never knew or even met him. My existence on this planet had to do with a convergence of events on a single night in Bow, New Hampshire.
My mother had never been married; her last name was Darden. Her first name was Ellen, but depending upon the gentlemen’s club and time in her life she performed, most people knew her as Candy, Amber, Tiffany, or Lexi (her many nom de plumes of the stripper world). My father knew her as Amber—Amber Rodeo—when she performed at the Fox Hunt Club in the small town of Bow, New Hampshire. Cormier (that is how my mother always referred to him, although I’m not sure if it is because she didn’t remember his first name or thought it was not an important detail) was not a regular patron according to my mother; nor did he have the reputation of a “stripper groupie”, which ultimately accounted for a good portion of my mother’s attraction to him. “It is often funny what attracts one to another—remember that,” she always said. My mother was by no means easy—she was not even apt to engage in one night stands—she was simply a lonely woman. What she wanted in life more than anything else was to have a child to keep her company; a child for her to raise the way she thought a child should be raised; and a child to love the way...
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Italian
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Translation in progress.
Translated by Marie Pregliasco
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Portuguese
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Already translated.
Translated by Yasmine Batista
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Spanish
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Translation in progress.
Translated by Natalia Rozas
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