Take a photo of a barcode or cover
annastanfort 's review for:
Lives of Girls and Women
by Alice Munro
The childhood section was too slow-paced for me even though I loved Munro’s writing but the last third on adolescence hit me a little too hard.
“He called me “baby” in a cold, languishing voice, as if I were somebody altogether different from myself; all I could think to do was get some idea of this person he thought he was dancing with and pretend to be her- somebody small, snappy, bright, flirtatious” (206).
“It was driving drunk at night along the black roads, listening to men’s jokes, putting up with and warily fighting with men and getting hold of them, getting hold- one side of life that could not exist without the other, and by undertaking and getting used to them both a girl was putting herself in the road to marriage. There was no other way. And I was not going to be able to do it. No. Better Charlotte Brontë” (213).
“He called me “baby” in a cold, languishing voice, as if I were somebody altogether different from myself; all I could think to do was get some idea of this person he thought he was dancing with and pretend to be her- somebody small, snappy, bright, flirtatious” (206).
“It was driving drunk at night along the black roads, listening to men’s jokes, putting up with and warily fighting with men and getting hold of them, getting hold- one side of life that could not exist without the other, and by undertaking and getting used to them both a girl was putting herself in the road to marriage. There was no other way. And I was not going to be able to do it. No. Better Charlotte Brontë” (213).