I first read in this 1985 as a teenager and read it again in the late 80s. I loved the book. I had also read her first autobiography, Changing, around 1985.
The memoir explores Ullmann's work as a Unicef ambassador, her acting in plays and films, and importantly, her doomed relationship with a man she calls Abel. A relationship that runs through the book, the seam of sadness and tragedy - but we all take something from loving, even if in the end, that loving cannot save a bond between two people. There's a lyrical, dream-like structure to the prose that's pleasing to read.
When I packed up my books a year ago I wanted to reread it then, and time rushed away and I thought I'd unpack soon and revisit the book. I wasn't to know that I'd move, and then move again, and not unpack my books till now. But I think it was necessary to read the book again now, at this time in my life, rather than before. This is echoed by the quotes which resonated with me, now, at this point in my life.
p 51:
Outside there is a winter landscape illuminated by a fading light. Snow is fluttering down. It could be a magical moment. But in this landscape the lovers are strangers. For a long time they lived only for the discovery of beauty in each other, everything else in their lives was left in a state of rest. Now they are slowly waking up, and the time of rejecting and destroying what they discovered is upon them.
p 68
Abel and I. This is our second winter together.
Outside a whistling wind, throwing hard sleet against the windows, small devils tapping on our walls wanting to come in. The night surrounds us with chilling darkness.
We are still lovers, but observing us is like watching two people mostly unable to reach each other.
p 120
Memory... [My grandmother] tells me of a dog she loved that died, and how its death no longer awakens the pang of grief she used to feel. She tells me with regret that time will heal, will erase the hurt and sorrow.
I wonder why this makes her sad.
p 176
I want it to be over. But I never know how to leave. And when someone leaves me, I panic and mourn the parting as if death has come between us.
But we are living together like strangers, and we seem to destroy every action and word of the other.
Sometimes I believe the reason I cling to this destructive relationship so stubbornly is because I know that, once he has gone, I will be forced to deal with pain. Alone.