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Infinity of Little Hours
An Infinity of Little Hours: Today, if you enter the grounds of the Carthusian Charterhouse at Parkminster, England, you will walk up a long path until you reach the heavy, double-oak doors of the main entrance.
You will pull the bell rope and wait expectantly.
After a long pause, you will hear the rasping sound of metal on wood as a bolt is pulled back … and… ever so slowly… a small window in one of the doors opens.
You will dimly see the brother Porter of Parkminster. His job is to keep outsiders from the inner sanctum, to protect the solitude of each monk.
“No visitors are allowed,” he will say, if you don’t have an appointment.
But, since you are inquiring about the book, An Infinity of Little Hours, you do have an appointment.
I invite you to join the many readers who have explored the secret life inside the Charterhouse. One reader called it a page turner, another the very best sort of psychological thriller, or a stunner of a book. A New York literary agent said it “knocked my socks off”. Don’t believe me. You can read their comments in the review section of this website. And, years later, the book is still selling and still being reviewed.
Nancy Klein Maguire
Share Share on facebook Facebook Share on twitter Twitter Share on email Email Share on linkedin LinkedIn My husband, Dom Philip, died on May 18, 2015, of a very rare liver cancer. For 26 months, 2.2 years, 790 days, there was not a single second that we were unaware of his inevitable death, with a constantly changing prognosis. With love and anguish, with laughter and tears, I learned how