This is an unusual but compelling book. It’s partly memoir about Rebecca Solnit’s relationship with her difficult mother, especially during her mother’s declining years as she suffered from Alzheimer’s Disease, and about Solnit’s own brush with illness. But it’s also about Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, and art, and Buddhism, and the Marquis de Sade, and apricots, and saying ‘yes’ to adventure opportunities, and protesting, and a whole bunch of other stuff.
It’s a strange mix. But I think that’s the point: this book is about how nothing happens in isolation; and how diverse stories fit together to make life more interesting. Or, at least, I think that’s what it’s about.
As you will have gathered, I'm very much struggling to describe this book. So why don’t I stop trying?
A good read.
“…wonderfully droll, witty and entertaining… At their best Carter’s moorland walks and his meandering intellectual talk are part of a single, deeply coherent enterprise: a restless inquiry into the meaning of place and the nature of self.”
—Mark Cocker, author and naturalist
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