by Elizabeth Hardwick

It took me months to read this book that I found in the Friends of the Library bookstore.  I was immediately drawn to it, but I would only read a few pages in bed before going to sleep.  So it had a disconnected feeling, because I wouldn’t necessarily remember exactly what I read.  And in the end it turned to be the perfect way to read such a book that was full of impressions and reflections on a life.  It sometimes read like a journal, sometimes like an essay, sometimes like a sketch.