Status Updates From La embriaguez de la metamor...

“But nothing stirs, everything is silent and empty like a forest where no birds are singing. She tries harder, this twenty-eight-year-old woman, to remember what it is to be happy, and with alarm she realizes that she no longer knows, that it’s like a foreign language she learned in childhood but has now forgotten, remembering only that she knew it once.”

Oh Christine … so charming, and yet so naïve. I’m so in awe of Zweig’s prose 🥹 He’s a master storyteller!