Tomasi di Lampedusa’s language is relatively spare and direct but still formal and correct, and sprinkled with archaic terms. It is carnal and sophisticated, slyly humorous but still possessed of a kind of gravity and grace.
I think of the work as a memoir of self-reckoning and the kinds of comeuppances we sometimes have to endure in order to recast our expectations about intimacy and love.
by Alison Gazarek
Climax and characterization helped frame them in a way that gave the story momentum, and depth, and meaning. I wasn’t just dating; I was making sense of these men, and our stories, and in turn, making sense of myself.
by Amy Day Wilkinson
During a phone conversation from Yaddo with her friend Elizabeth, Beard says, “I hate it here; why did I come here? All there is to do is write.”
by Evelyn Somers
I had another leap of faith. I hadn’t seen another book on this subject, the subculture. I knew I had an interesting character. He was willing to share everything with me. So I kept on.
“The knot in which the soul was bound is no trick knot, coming apart with a tug at its end. On the contrary, it grows tighter and tighter. We work at it, untying it, tracing the path of the string, seeking the end, and out of this manipulating comes art…”
“I know people are going to jump on me for this; the Mona Lisa’s a nice painting but if the guy had never painted it, the world would still go on. Not that I’m da Vinci or anything, but having those kinds of feelings sort of frees you.”