I've always felt that reading Justine is a bit like reading The Waves: one understands little, and yet one recognizes unquestionable bits of literary genius. The same might be said of Michael Wood's recent review of Lawrence Durrell's Quartet, except that, as I made clear in a letter to the London Review, Wood's essay is so unreadable that any specks of insight are clouded by an unyielding opacity.
Wood's was a feeble piece. It makes you wonder what it takes to get a job at Princeton. But Justine deserves and rewards attention. It is a beautiful and compressed masterpiece. You might be interested to read more about Justine in Alexandria: City of Memory, by Michael Haag, Yale University Press, 2004. See www.michaelhaag.com. Yes, it is me.ReplyDelete
Ha - I certainly will, Michael. Thanks for the post! --JesseReplyDelete