"God was dead: to begin with.
And romance was dead. Chivalry was dead. Poetry, the novel, painting, they were all dead, and art was dead. Theatre and cinema were both dead. Literature was dead. The book was dead."
- Ali Smith, Winter.
These lines don't do the poetry of Smith's stream of consciousness writing justice. Her way with words is mesmerizing: you can feel her characters thinking as you read. And read you will! Before I knew what was happening, I had read through 60 pages of this delightful novel. Can't wait to see where it goes.
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