Take a photo of a barcode or cover
karp76 's review for:
Stella Maris
by Cormac McCarthy
“I know that you can make a good case that all of human sorrow is grounded in injustice. Ands sorrow is what is left when rage is expended and found to be impotent.” The door slides closed. Footsteps heading towards the chair, the seat taken. Clearing of the throat. The silence. The ticking of the clock on the wall. Let us begin. The intimacy of it. Two people, two voice talking. Question, answer. What is shared cannot be taken back. The shadow of remembrance. Of what has come before. Time and events half remembered and poorly reported. Dependency on what will follow. A tale yet to be told by Schrödinger's cat in the form of a brother - dead or alive waiting for a time to be revealed. One cannot exist without the other. Time is up. What do we have? A testimony and a confession. It turns inward and we turn with it, examining and listening, drawn further in. Yet could this could not stand on its own, read without knowing what will come. Thus, its poignancy. Thus, its flaw. “I'm not really concerned about what other people believe. I don't consider them qualified to have an opinion.”