Insomnia can be wonderful (almost) until it becomes useless. You can't sleep, but you can't think, either. You have two books on your nightstand you're dying to read, three more on your Kindle and you still haven't caught up with the Sunday papers...that quiet, free time beckons, but it's pointless, because you haven't slept well for nights and it feels like you have bananas for brains.
Even so, I picked up Kate O'Brien's As Music And Splendour at 4 this morning and found myself enraptured with Anne Enright's lovely introduction. Normally, I read forewords after I finish a novel because often plot points are revealed or reflections that make more sense in the story's aftermath.
Even so, I picked up Kate O'Brien's As Music And Splendour at 4 this morning and found myself enraptured with Anne Enright's lovely introduction. Normally, I read forewords after I finish a novel because often plot points are revealed or reflections that make more sense in the story's aftermath.
Mostly, though, Ms. Enright writes of two of the novel's most critical elements: love and music.
-that all love is impossible, that it fades as you try to grasp it.
-And still, the music yearns and insists that love is possible so long as we are true.
Now, that I am into the book (first published in 1958) my only frustration is in finding the time to read it all in one sitting. Maybe it won't be so bad if my insomnia strikes again tonight.
-And still, the music yearns and insists that love is possible so long as we are true.
Now, that I am into the book (first published in 1958) my only frustration is in finding the time to read it all in one sitting. Maybe it won't be so bad if my insomnia strikes again tonight.
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