Louise - how strange. I was sure I'd replied to this...but see now that I've instead been in ongoing conversation with you/your words in my thoughts! Our exchange here really has moved me. I read your piece, my response, your reply to my husband as an example of what wonderful things are happening on here. And it led to another great co…
Louise - how strange. I was sure I'd replied to this...but see now that I've instead been in ongoing conversation with you/your words in my thoughts! Our exchange here really has moved me. I read your piece, my response, your reply to my husband as an example of what wonderful things are happening on here. And it led to another great conversation between he and I about reading. Thank you.
Please do keep writing for us here, and I am fascinated to read whatever you want to share about your 'recalibration'.
Since we last exchanged words here I've gone on from Return of the Native to Hardy's biography (just finished) and now I've cracked open a much-sellotaped copy of Tess of the D'Urbervilles that I've had since university but never read because of how often tutors and classmates called me her, on account of my rural accent. I see now, so late, how I turned away from my rural heritage into a study of the modernists simply because I resented being characterized by others. But lost a lot in so doing.
It's lovely to feel there's a group of us all recalibrating in our different ways. xx
Louise - how strange. I was sure I'd replied to this...but see now that I've instead been in ongoing conversation with you/your words in my thoughts! Our exchange here really has moved me. I read your piece, my response, your reply to my husband as an example of what wonderful things are happening on here. And it led to another great conversation between he and I about reading. Thank you.
Please do keep writing for us here, and I am fascinated to read whatever you want to share about your 'recalibration'.
Since we last exchanged words here I've gone on from Return of the Native to Hardy's biography (just finished) and now I've cracked open a much-sellotaped copy of Tess of the D'Urbervilles that I've had since university but never read because of how often tutors and classmates called me her, on account of my rural accent. I see now, so late, how I turned away from my rural heritage into a study of the modernists simply because I resented being characterized by others. But lost a lot in so doing.
It's lovely to feel there's a group of us all recalibrating in our different ways. xx