Returning to the city of her youth for a retrospective of her art, controversial painter Elaine Risley is engulfed by vivid images of the past. Strongest of all is the figure of Cordelia, leader of the trio of girls who initiated her into the fierce politics of childhood and its secret world... read more
“Most mothers worry when their daughters reach adolescence, but I was the opposite. I relaxed, I sighed with relief. Little girls are cute and small only to adults. To one another they are not cute. They are life-sized.”Elaine Risley, narrator
“We are silent, considering shortfalls. There's not much time left, for us to become what we once intended. Jon had potential, but it's not a word that can be used comfortably any more. Potential has a shelf life.”Elaine Risley, narrator
“Boys don't smell the same as girls. They have a pungent, leathery, underneath smell, like old rope, like damp dogs.”Elaine Risley, narrator
“... aging begins at he elbows and metastasizes.”Elaine Risley, narrator
“Forgiving men is so much easier than forgiving women.”Elaine Risley, narrator
“I slink to the drugstore with some pee in a bottle, feeling like a criminal. Married women go to their doctors. Unmarried women do this.”Elaine Risley, narrator
“We remember through smells, as dogs do.”Elaine Risley, narrator
This is the middle of my life. I think of it as a place, like the middle of a river, the middle of a bridge, halfway across, halfway over. I’m supposed to have accumulated things by now: possessions, responsibilities, achievements, experience and wisdom. I’m supposed to be a person of substance.Highlighted by 14 Kindle customers
This goes along with another belief of mine: that everyone else my age is an adult, whereas I am merely in disguise.Highlighted by 13 Kindle customers
What we share, Jon and I, may be a lot like a traffic accident, but we do share it. We are survivors, of each other.Highlighted by 8 Kindle customers
The good thing about being out of fashion is that you’re never in fashion either, so you can never be last year’s model.Highlighted by 7 Kindle customers
Little girls are cute and small only to adults. To one another they are not cute. They are life-sized.Highlighted by 6 Kindle customers
Hatred would have been easier. With hatred, I would have known what to do. Hatred is clear, metallic, one-handed, unwavering; unlike love.Highlighted by 6 Kindle customers
I want some friends, friends who will be girls. Girl friends. I know that these exist, having read about them in books, but I’ve never had any girl friends because I’ve never been in one place long enough.Highlighted by 5 Kindle customers
So I am left to the girls, real girls at last, in the flesh. But I’m not used to girls, or familiar with their customs. I feel awkward around them, I don’t know what to say. I know the unspoken rules of boys, but with girls I sense that I am always on the verge of some unforeseen, calamitous blunder.Highlighted by 5 Kindle customers
Vancouver is the suicide capital of the country. You keep going west until you run out. You come to the edge. Then you fall off.Highlighted by 4 Kindle customers
It doesn’t pay to know too many of these things; eventually there’s nothing you can put into your mouth without tasting the death in it.Highlighted by 4 Kindle customers
i Iron Lung
ii Silver Paper
iii Empire Bloomers
iv Deadly Nightshade
v Wringer
vi Cat's Eye
vii Our Lady of Perpetual Help
viii Half a Face
ix Leprosy
x Life Drawing
xi Falling Women
xii One Wing
xiii Picoseconds
xiv Unified Field Theory
xv Bridge
Preceded by The Book of Evidence, and followed by Foucault's Pendulum.
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