The Strange Journey of Alice Pendelbury

by Marc Levy

And she’s right to do so. Just because somebody is gone doesn’t mean they don’t exist anymore—with a little imagination, you’re never alone.

Presence contrast TO existence? Entangled in the net

“You’re drunk, Daldry. Nothing you’re saying makes any sense, and yet you’ve almost managed to convince me.”

“You’re drunk, Daldry. Nothing you’re saying makes any sense, and yet you’ve almost managed to convince me.” - right out of the movies. A wonderful post-war period piece!

I came to understand that for a man, loving a woman is taking her beauty and putting it under a glass, where she feels sheltered and cherished . . . until it wilts and fades away.

O

“Last year a man who particularly liked one of my perfumes got my address from a shopkeeper and came to see me. He brought along a little box that contained a bit of braided leather cord, a tin soldier whose painted uniform was chipped off, an agate marble, and a ragged little flag. It was the summary of his childhood all in a tiny metal box. He told me that when he first smelled my perfume, he was overcome by the strange and inexplicable desire to go home and go through his attic to find that box, one he’d completely forgotten about until then. He had me smell the interior of the box and asked if I could reproduce the mix of odors before it faded away. I rather stupidly told him that it was impossible, but after he left, I wrote down what I had smelled. The rust on the inside of the lid, the hemp of the cord, the tin, the old oil paint, the oak that had been used to sculpt the little toy, the dusty silk of the flag, the agate marble . . . I think I still have that list somewhere. I kept it, not knowing what to do with it. But today, with some more experience, by continuing to observe and study, like the way you made all those sketches this afternoon, I think I know what to do. I have an idea about how to make a perfume that could combine many different materials. You seem to be inspired by forms and colors, but for me, it’s odors.

I enjoy how Levy employs the scents that so envelope us in life to also emerge us in the narrative.

Who would buy a bottle of dusty rug or rainy street? But it’s very poetic.”

I’m working on re-creating the illusion of dust. I realize how ridiculous that must sound, but dusty overtones are an important part of all of my memories, and Istanbul is full of the smells of earth, stone walls, gravel paths, salt, mud, and dry wood.

I hope that when you head out of the door every night you leave a little of your color and your madness behind to keep the place alive until I return. (Yours is usually a good sort of madness—take it as a compliment between friends.)

Great use of "color" to add color to the story.

“Perhaps, but friendship is never entirely innocent between a man and a woman.” “I don’t agree. My best and closest friend is a man, and we’ve been friends since we were in our teens.” “You don’t miss him?” “Of course I miss him. I write to him every week.” “Does he write back?” “No, but he has a good excuse. I don’t actually send my letters.”

“Does he write back?” “No, but he has a good excuse. I don’t actually send my letters.” Again, to me, a verycinematic line that makes his writing more memorable.

Can smiled and left Alice on her doorstep, walking backward to keep looking at her as he went. “And you never asked yourself why you don’t send them?”

Telling.