Well, you don't, as Charlotte finally opens her Moor-mangled and stunted heart to real Life and goes gently into that dark night. You don't live with it, you wrestle with it, hide from it, fear & loathe it, and to escape its grip even for a moment is, Miss George Eliot, how you end a book. As Morgan notes, there is a contract implied between the reader and the author, an obligation of the latter. Eventually you have to give the reader some light, some air to breathe and I ponder this as I finish the book and watch my cat on the balcony at midnight as the Florida air allows the Bay breezes to infiltrate the mugginess. This is how you get through the day.
No comments :
Post a Comment