I came to Doris Lessing’s final book, the genre-defying Alfred & Emily, through Roberta Rubenstein’s consideration of it in her recent book Literary Half-Lives… 1,909 more words
Tags » Doris Lessing
This is not a happy book. The grass, if it is indeed singing, is probably voicing a sad lament for years gone by, for wasted lives and opportunities, for the horrible choices we make because we think we have to, and for the way humans manage to create cages from themselves when all there is around them is open space. 408 more words
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I am in a mood that gets more and more familiar: words lose their meaning suddenly. I find myself listening to a sentence, a phrase, a group of words, as if they are in a foreign language—the gap between what they are supposed to mean, and what in fact they say seems unbridgeable.