After the second, you see things as they are not. Finally, you see things as they really are, and that is the most horrible thing in the world.” Oscar Wilde is first reported as saying this about absinthe, by Ada Leverson, in 1930. Susan caught the TGV from Paris, a bottle of absinthe in her backpack. In her head, the plan of a novel that refused to be written, at least until she had settled into her friend’s farmhouse near Saint Seurin Sur L’Isle, not far from the town of Montpon Menesterol, which itself was on the edge of Le Foret de la Mole, in the Dordogne. She walked from the small station, her rucksack heavy, the Stone Roses playing over and over again on her iPod. Typically, she had packed too many books. She had a couple of kilometres left to travel, on a windy October afternoon. The woman who had been looking after the farmhouse left a bottle of Bordeaux on the doorstep, and a spray of late white wild roses and briar thorn, to welcome Susan on her arrival. That cheered Susan as she had just recovered from glandular fever (been kissing too many low-lifers—she suspected).
What do You think about Bull Running For Girlsl (2013)?
