A Grasp of Kaspar

Informationen zum Autor Michael Baxandall was probably the most influential art historian of his generation. In books including Painting and Experience in Fifteenth Century Italy! The Limewood Sculptors of Renaissance Germany! Patterns of Intention and Tiepolo and the Pictorial Intelligence (with Svetlana Alpers) he expanded the discipline's range of topics! approaches! and ways of writing. A professor at London's Warburg Institute and the University of California at Berkeley! he was also a member of the British Academy! and was awarded the Mitchell Prize! and prizes by the University of Hamburg! and the MacArthur Foundation. He died in 2008. Klappentext An unexpected! gripping and fiercely intelligent postwar thriller by one of Britain's leading cultural historians which will remind readers of John Buchan! Erskine Childers! and John le Carre . Leseprobe Birggs decided it was time to leave. He had demonstrated enough enterprise to prevent self-reproach for feebleness. And he was becoming unsure of his motives. The sortie had gone sour. He would go. But not yet... 'Fritz! Bernhard! I'm ready now...' The BMV man had evidently come from the offices on the right and must be walking to his car. The engine started and the car reversed neatly round into the gap. Behind the buttress, to which he had retreated, Briggs was trapped. The car's engine was switched off again. A second man, presumably one of the fitters, arrived and there was the noise of the boot being opened. 'All right?' 'Yes, on the whole - though Cesare had absurd trouble with that elliptical profile you wanted. These are the heddle-horses. They seem to me a bit rough.' 'What about the cowl?' 'Here. Cesare said you could have brought a better one ready-made in Zurich.' 'We don't want to go round Zurich asking for specialized gear and leaving traces.' 'For heaven's sake! So you have rougher one hand-wrought in Pavia? By the way, Cesare can't make those bobbins. He really can't handle manganese at all, you know. We'll have to make do with the old ones for the moment. In any case, I've been wondering whether it isn't the surface texture that's critical. We can try applying different finishes.' 'The stuff from Goschenen?' 'All here. This box. For God's sake don't drop it. I didn't like you friend at all. The electrodes are on top.' 'He's a surly devil, but he holds his tongue.' 'Where are you going to keep that stuff?' 'Locked up in a fine-metal store. You're not taking this seriously. We are: it is serious.' 'If you say so. I will think of it as a serious joke. Now, about the heddle-horses. Set them up tomorrow morning and I'll look in later. They are rough, but we'll give them a short run... here's Bernhard.' A third man was arriving. Briggs leaned out a little from his buttress to snatch a look while they were attending in the other direction, fractionally lost balance, came down heavily and - it seemed to him - noisily on his front foot, lost his nerve and ran. Zusammenfassung Munich 1956 The war is over but not forgotten. The West German economic miracle is under way and American investors are looking for opportunities. Some opportunities are riskier than others: some companies have skeletons in the cupboard. The war records of many businesses and businessmen are unclear. When Will Briggs agrees to investigate a South German textile company for an American friend, he half knows how deep and how murky the water might be. But he is intrigued by the challenge, and he could use the money to fund his own historical research. Travelling first to Switzerland to investigate what he thinks may be tax fraud, he becomes involved with Mechtild, the mercurial wife of ...

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An unexpected, gripping and fiercely intelligent postwar thriller by one of Britain's leading cultural historians which will remind readers of John Buchan, Erskine Childers, and John le Carre .

Résumé
Munich 1956

The war is over but not forgotten.

The West German economic miracle is under way and American investors are looking for opportunities.

Some opportunities are riskier than others: some companies have skeletons in the cupboard. The war records of many businesses and businessmen are unclear.

When Will Briggs agrees to investigate a South German textile company for an American friend, he half knows how deep and how murky the water might be. But he is intrigued by the challenge, and he could use the money to fund his own historical research.

Travelling first to Switzerland to investigate what he thinks may be tax fraud, he becomes involved with Mechtild, the mercurial wife of the boss, Kaspar Leinberger.

Discovered eavesdropping on a suspicious conversation about Nazi gold, he is pursued to Italy where war crimes replace tax fraud as the focus of his quest, and as Briggs attempts to evade his pursuers and to uncover Kaspar Leinberger's past he unpeels layers of recent, and more remote, history.

Raising eternal questions about historical truth, about witch hunts and about the use of evidence, A Grasp of Kaspar is a gripping and fiercely intelligent thriller which will remind readers of John Buchan, Erskine Childers, and John le Carré .

Échantillon de lecture
Birggs decided it was time to leave. He had demonstrated enough enterprise to prevent self-reproach for feebleness. And he was becoming unsure of his motives. The sortie had gone sour. He would go.

But not yet...

'Fritz! Bernhard! I'm ready now...'

The BMV man had evidently come from the offices on the right and must be walking to his car. The engine started and the car reversed neatly round into the gap. Behind the buttress, to which he had retreated, Briggs was trapped. The car's engine was switched off again. A second man, presumably one of the fitters, arrived and there was the noise of the boot being opened.

'All right?'

'Yes, on the whole - though Cesare had absurd trouble with that elliptical profile you wanted. These are the heddle-horses. They seem to me a bit rough.'

'What about the cowl?'

'Here. Cesare said you could have brought a better one ready-made in Zurich.'

'We don't want to go round Zurich asking for specialized gear and leaving traces.'

'For heaven's sake! So you have rougher one hand-wrought in Pavia? By the way, Cesare can't make those bobbins. He really can't handle manganese at all, you know. We'll have to make do with the old ones for the moment. In any case, I've been wondering whether it isn't the surface texture that's critical. We can try applying different finishes.'

'The stuff from Goschenen?'

'All here. This box. For God's sake don't drop it. I didn't like you friend at all. The electrodes are on top.'

'He's a surly devil, but he holds his tongue.'

'Where are you going to keep that stuff?'

'Locked up in a fine-metal store. You're not taking this seriously. We are: it is serious.'

'If you say so. I will think of it as a serious joke. Now, about the heddle-horses. Set them up tomorrow morning and I'll look in later. They are rough, but we'll give them a short run... here's Bernhard.'

A third man was arriving. Briggs leaned out a little from his buttress to snatch a look while they were attending in the other direction, fractionally lost balance, came down heavily and - it seemed to him - noisily on his front foot, lost his nerve and ran.