Jun 24, 12
Read from June 22 to 24, 2012
There are books that are delightful, inspiring, and disgusting. This one is all three and more - fecund. The fertility born in death. The pleasure granted from numbness and more obviously, pain. Lidia has tossed out her safe word and wrote what is so hard - truth. Her journey drowns the reader and leaves him/her gasping for air with the heady realization that drowning would have been easier and possibly preferable. I also hated the way this book felt like it spilled out of an overdone writer's workshop, but maybe that's because I'd love to be in a writer's workshop with her. If the metaphor that organizes this collection of thoughts works then its rapids and eddies left me without something to grasp - the paddle floating ahead. I loved it and I hated loving it, because loving it only would mean loving myself.