Beatrice & Virgil Hardback - 2010

(Virgil and Beatrice are sitting at the foot of the tree.
They are looking out blankly.
Silence.)
 
VIRGIL: What I’d give for a pear.
 
BEATRICE: A pear?
 
VIRGIL: Yes. A ripe and juicy one.
 
(Pause.)
 
BEATRICE: I’ve never had a pear.
 
VIRGIL: What?
 
BEATRICE: In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever set eyes on one.
 
VIRGIL: How is that possible? It’s a common fruit.
 
BEATRICE: My parents were always eating apples and carrots. I
guess they didn’t like pears.
 
VIRGIL: But pears are so good! I bet you there’s a pear tree
right around here. (He looks about.)
 
…
 
 
BEATRICE: What does a pear taste like?
 
VIRGIL: Wait. You must smell it first. A ripe pear breathes a
fragrance that is watery and subtle, its power lying
in the lightness of its impression upon the olfactory
sense. Can you imagine the smell of nutmeg or
cinnamon?
 
BEATRICE: I can.
 
VIRGIL: The smell of a ripe pear has the same effect on the
mind as these aromatic spices. The mind is arrested,
spellbound, and a thousand and one memories and
associations are thrown up as the mind burrows deep
to understand the allure of this beguiling smell—
which it never comes to understand, by the way.
 
BEATRICE: But how does it taste? I can’t wait any longer.
 
VIRGIL: A ripe pear overflows with sweet juiciness.
 
BEATRICE: Oh, that sounds good.
 
VIRGIL: Slice a pear and you will find that its flesh is
incandescent white. It glows with inner light. Those
who carry a knife and a pear are never afraid of the
dark.
 
BEATRICE: I must have one.
 
VIRGIL: The texture of a pear, its consistency, is yet another
difficult matter to put into words. Some pears are a
little crunchy.
 
BEATRICE: Like an apple?
 
VIRGIL: No, not at all like an apple! An apple resists being
eaten. An apple is not eaten, it is conquered. The
crunchiness of a pear is far more appealing. It is
giving and fragile. To eat a pear is akin to . . .
kissing.
 
BEATRICE: Oh, my. It sounds so good.
 
VIRGIL: The flesh of a pear can be slightly gritty. And yet it
melts in the mouth.
 
BEATRICE: Is such a thing possible?
 
VIRGIL: With every pear. And that is only the look, the feel,
the smell, the texture. I have not even told you of
the taste.
 
BEATRICE: My God!
 
VIRGIL: The taste of a good pear is such that when you eat
one, when your teeth sink into the bliss of one, it
becomes a wholly engrossing activity. You want to
do nothing else but eat your pear. You would rather
sit than stand. You would rather be alone than in
company. You would rather have silence than music.
All your senses but taste fall inactive. You see
nothing, you hear nothing, you feel nothing—or
only as it helps you to appreciate the divine taste of
your pear.
 
BEATRICE: But what does it actually taste like?
 
VIRGIL: A pear tastes like, it tastes like . . . (He struggles. He
gives up with a shrug.) I don’t know. I can’t put it into
words. A pear tastes like itself.
 
BEATRICE: (sadly) I wish you had a pear.
 
VIRGIL: And if I had one, I would give it to you.
 
(Silence.)

INTERNATIONAL BESTSELLER
#1 NATIONAL BESTSELLER
A Financial Times Best Book
Finalist – Saskatchewan Book Awards Fiction Award
Finalist – Saskatchewan Book Awards Saskatoon Book Award


"Brilliant. . . . The subject of Beatrice & Virgil is not just one boy’s improbable adventure, but the very real horror of the Holocaust, and the difficulty of doing it justice in telling it. Martel works not at two levels, but several. . . . Be assured that with this short, crisply written, many-layered book, Martel has once again demonstrated that nothing tells the truth like fiction."
— The Plain Dealer

"Ruptures the division between worlds real and imagined, forcing us to reconsider how we think of documentary writing. Forget what this book is ‘about’: Yann Martel’s new novel not only opens us to the emotional and psychological truths of fiction, but also provides keys to open its fictions ourselves, and to become, in some way, active participants in their creation."
— The Globe and Mail

"A chilling addition to the literature about the horrors most of us cannot imagine, and will stir its readers to think about the depths of depravity to which humanity can sink and the amplitude of our capacity to survive."
— The Huffington Post

"Dark but divine. . . . Martel knows exactly what he’s doing in this lean little allegory about a talking donkey and monkey. This novel just might be a masterpiece about the Holocaust. . . . Somehow Martel brilliantly guides the reader from the too-sunny beginning into the terrifying darkness of the old man’s shop and Europe’s past. Everything comes into focus by the end, leaving the reader startled, astonished and moved."
— USA Today

"The very idea that we think that we have heard the story enough is perhaps a sign that we have not. . . . [R]ead Yann Martel’s Beatrice & Virgil. You will be glad that you did, and you may find yourself seeing your life and the world, both fictional and otherwise, in a different light."
— About.com

"Martel’s prose is artfully simple and clear. . . . Those who enjoyed the cerebral aspects of Life of Pi will find things to admire."
— Winnipeg Free Press

The award-winning author of four previous books, the most recent of which is What Is Stephen Harper Reading?, Yann Martel was born in Spain in 1963. He studied philosophy at Trent University, worked at odd jobs - tree planter, dishwasher, security guard - and travelled widely before turning to writing. He was awarded the Journey Prize for the title story in The Facts Behind the Helsinki Roccamatios. His second novel, Life of Pi, won the 2002 Man Booker, among other prizes.
Yann Martel lives in Saskatoon with the writer Alice Kuipers and their son.