Books with title Grandfathers Chair

This is a pre-1923 historical reproduction that was curated for quality. Quality assurance was conducted on each of these books in an attempt to remove books with imperfections introduced by the digitization process. Though we have made best efforts - the books may have occasional errors that do not impede the reading experience. We believe this work is culturally important and have elected to bring the book back into print as part of our continuing commitment to the preservation of printed works worldwide.

Grandfather’s Chair is a short story collection written by American author Nathaniel Hawthorne (1804 – 1864). Hawthorne’s works belong to romanticism or, more specifically, dark romanticism, cautionary tales that suggest that guilt, sin, and evil are the most inherent natural qualities of humanity. Many of his works are inspired by Puritan New England, combining historical romance loaded with symbolism and deep psychological themes, bordering on surrealism. His depictions of the past are a version of historical fiction used only as a vehicle to express common themes of ancestral sin, guilt and retribution. His later writings also reflect his negative view of the Transcendentalism movement. Hawthorne was predominantly a short story writer in his early career. Upon publishing Twice-Told Tales, however, he noted, ”I do not think much of them,” and he expected little response from the public. His four major romances were written between 1850 and 1860: The Scarlet Letter (1850), The House of the Seven Gables (1851), The Blithedale Romance (1852) and The Marble Faun (1860). Another novel-length romance, Fanshawe was published anonymously in 1828. Hawthorne defined a romance as being radically different from a novel by not being concerned with the possible or probable course of ordinary experience. In the preface to The House of the Seven Gables, Hawthorne describes his romance-writing as using ”atmospherical medium as to bring out or mellow the lights and deepen and enrich the shadows of the picture”.

Carsyn’s future is homelessness and starvation. He doesn’t care about the world. But when an underground group of “lunatics” find him, telling him he’s in danger while also successfully predicting the president’s death, Carsyn is offered a new future. He leaves his past, makes a few friends, and soon learns of his connection with Grandfather, a group of extremists who are secretly taking control of the government.He finds himself unexpectedly intertwined with the infamous group, learning how dangerous they truly are. Carsyn starts to care about the world, wanting others to see what’s truly happening within the government. He wants to help the underground group destroy Grandfather. Nothing goes as planned, and Carsyn must ask himself if all he did was make things worse.Grandfather is a Ya Pre-Apocalyptic novel that focuses on events leading up to a dystopian society rather than the rebellion and fall of power. Join Carsyn in a mysterious journey that will have you wanting to know more about the futuristic world and the power controlling it.

IN writing this ponderous tome, the author's desire has been to describe the eminent characters and remarkable events of our annals in such a form and style that the YOUNG may make acquaintance with them of their own accord. For this purpose, while ostensibly relating the adventures of a chair, he has endeavored to keep a distinct and unbroken thread of authentic history. The chair is made to pass from one to another of those personages of whom he thought it most desirable for the young reader to have vivid and familiar ideas, and whose lives and actions would best enable him to give picturesque sketches of the times. On its sturdy oaken legs it trudges diligently from one scene to another, and seems always to thrust itself in the way, with most benign complacency, whenever an historical personage happens to be looking round for a seat. There is certainly no method by which the shadowy outlines of departed men and women can be made to assume the hues of life more effectually than by connecting their images with the substantial and homely reality of a fireside chair. It causes us to feel at once that these characters of history had a private and familiar existence, and were not wholly contained within that cold array of outward action which we are compelled to receive as the adequate representation of their lives. If this impression can be given, much is accomplished.