A stunning portrait of motherhood and the artist’s life in all their terror and glory, Maggie O’Farrell’s newest novel is a gorgeous inquiry into the ways we make and unmake our lives, who we know ourselves to be, and how even our most accidental legacies connect us.
Lexie Sinclair cannot stay. Enclosed within her parents’ genteel country lawn, she yearns for more. She makes her way to the big city, hungry for life and love, where she meets a magazine editor, Innes, a man unlike any she has ever imagined. He introduces her to the thrilling underground... read more (warning: may contain spoilers)
“We contemplate younger women as they pass us in the street, with their cigarettes, their makeup, their tight-seamed dresses, their tiny hand-bags, their smooth, washed hair, and we turn away, we put down our heads, we keep up pushing the pram up the hill.”
“Innes's interest never fails to be piqued by the proximity of a woman.”
They were like clothes invested with static, adhering to each other but with an uncomfortable, aggravating friction.Highlighted by 16 Kindle customers
'You young people are always so obsessed with truth. The truth is often overrated.'Highlighted by 12 Kindle customers
We change shape, she continued, we buy low-heeled shoes, we cut off our long hair. We begin to carry in our bags half-eaten rusks, a small tractor, a shred of beloved fabric, a plastic doll. We lose muscle tone, sleep, reason,Highlighted by 11 Kindle customers
She wanted to say, no. She wanted to say, I have a son, there is a child, this cannot happen. Because you know that no one will ever love them like you do. You know that no one will look after them like you do. You know that it's an impossibility, it's unthinkable that you could be taken away, that you will have to leave them behind.Highlighted by 11 Kindle customers
She is here, she is in London: any minute now the technicolour part of her life will commence, she is sure, she is certain–it has to.Highlighted by 10 Kindle customers
She has had a creeping fear of late that what she wants most–for her life to begin, to take on some meaning, to turn from blurred monochrome into glorious technicolour–may pass her by. That she might not recognise it if it comes her way, might fail to grasp for it.Highlighted by 10 Kindle customers
She has no idea that she will die young, that she does not have as much time as she thinks. For now she has just discovered the love of her life, and death couldn't be further from her mind.Highlighted by 10 Kindle customers
She'll have many incarnations in her time. She is made up of myriad Lexies and Alexandras, all sheathed inside one another, like Russian dolls.Highlighted by 9 Kindle customers
And just as she was sure that this was the way her life would be for ever, that this was her, finally and immutably, something changed, just as it always does.Highlighted by 8 Kindle customers
It is a particular brand of fury, peculiar to youth, that stifling, oppressive sensation of your elders outmanoeuvring you.Highlighted by 8 Kindle customers
We’re hiding the organizations, table of contents, errata, movie connections, books that influenced this book, books influenced by this book, books that cite this book and books cited by this book sections. If you would like to add content to them, you must first make them visible.