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sarahreadsaverylot 's review for:
Bitter Lemons
by Lawrence Durrell
"In an island of bitter lemons
Where the moon's cool fevers burn
From the dark globes of the fruit,
And the dry grass underfoot
Tortures memory and revises
Habits half a lifetime dead
Better leave the rest unsaid,
Beauty, darkness, vehemence
Let the old sea-nurses keep
Their memorials of sleep
And the Greek sea's curly head
Keep its calms like tears unshed
Keep its calms like tears unshed."
"This is not a political book," begins the author's preface. A provoking statement that merits pages of discussion, yet somehow pales away in relation to the descriptive prose that more than lives up to his reputation. The portrait he paints is filled with admiration, honour and regret--interweaving the landscape, the people, and the politics into a bouquet that is citric but never bitter.
Where the moon's cool fevers burn
From the dark globes of the fruit,
And the dry grass underfoot
Tortures memory and revises
Habits half a lifetime dead
Better leave the rest unsaid,
Beauty, darkness, vehemence
Let the old sea-nurses keep
Their memorials of sleep
And the Greek sea's curly head
Keep its calms like tears unshed
Keep its calms like tears unshed."
"This is not a political book," begins the author's preface. A provoking statement that merits pages of discussion, yet somehow pales away in relation to the descriptive prose that more than lives up to his reputation. The portrait he paints is filled with admiration, honour and regret--interweaving the landscape, the people, and the politics into a bouquet that is citric but never bitter.