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256 pages, Unknown Binding
First published April 23, 2002
Clare thought while she was reading this novel that perhaps in her life she was wrong, she was perverted, she was, in her foolishness and vanity, sacrificing something precious. What if she was leaving a good man and breaking up a family, not even for love, but out of curiosity, out of dissatisfaction? What if she was doing this not, as she had believed, out of deep inner need, but in fact she was following a pattern, a seductive and flattering and false suggestion that flowed at her on all sides from novels and films and advertising, about the importance, the paramount and endless intricate intriguing importance, of her own fulfilment?
The vision was highly ridiculous. Not only had she never in reality dreamed of asking Bram to forgive her, it had never occurred to her that there was anything she needed to be forgiven for. Everything the break-up had actually been like - the impossible, convoluted ferreting out of blame and causations, the twisting round of their old knowledge of each other to use in new hostilities, the sheer meanness of their unleashed dislike of one another - all that was cleared aside in this vision as if it was finished with, when of course it wasn't.