Thursday, January 22, 2009

what is not there

And you read one page of it or even one phrase of it, and then you gobble up all the rest and go about in a dream for weeks afterwards, for months afterwards -- perhaps all your life, who knows? -- surrounded by those six hundred and fifty pages, the houses, the streets, the snow, the river, the roses, the girls, the sun, the ladies' dresses and the gentlemen's voices, the old, wicked, hard-hearted women and the old, sad women, the waltz music -- everything. What is not there you put in afterwards, for it is alive, this book, and it grows in your head.

3 comments:

Missa said...

wonderful.

secret, fragile skies said...

when i was 18, i discovered Jean Rhys which led to a lifetime dream of Paris. love her. beautiful selection, post.

Erica said...

Me too, I was 20 when a boy gave me her collected short stories...

and then it was all over.

xo