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561 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 1, 1989
"[...] his eyes were as old as God, and he was fragile as a winter leaf. He was a Sunday child, fidgeting there on the couch in an oversized jacket and new cufflinks and I was Mom. But I was also sister mystic and fellow outlaw, queen to his jack, and a twin underground star. We were living out a myth, slumming it together in the Village."There is also a beautiful passage about Bob Dylan, written in a second-person narrative - this is first-rate literature. I admire Ms. Baez' talent to write about him with such passion and love and then write about her rather sharp disillusionment with him several years later.
"You, more than anyone else who has been a part of my life, are my hope and inspiration. [...] Every time I hear your voice, it brings me back to the foot of the mountain. I don't lack the courage, Martin. It's just that in the eighties I can't seem to find where the path begins.The chapter about Ms. Baez' meeting with yet another Nobel Peace Prize winner, Poland's Lech Wałęsa, resonates with me so much for personal reasons - I lived in Poland when Wałęsa's Solidarity was crushed by the Soviet-influenced government, and when he became a worldwide symbol of push for freedom. The passage about her singing Gracias a la Vida for Mr. Wałęsa is deeply moving.