Beginnings are always delightful; the threshold is the place to pause. Goethe, quoted in:
The book begins:
It is [almost] June. This is what I have decided to do with my life just now. I will do this work of transformed and even distorted memory and lead this life, the one I am leading today . . .
If only one knew what to remember or pretend to remember. Make a decision and what you want from the lost things will present itself . . . Perhaps . . . Maybe the shadows will suffice, the light and the shade . . .
So,
I begin again . . .
on my pile of 'yellowing incompletes'
like those of the 'hesitant intellectual' she described, whose 'years fly by like a day'. . .
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