When I get home from work today two new books will be waiting on my porch. The Black Book by Lawrence Durrell and The Antelope Wife by Louise Erdrich. I’ve read the latter but its been so long I’m looking forward to reading it again. Erdrich’s style is poetic and dreamy.
Durrell’s book caught my eye when a gorgeous sentence was excerpted from it to illustrate the word of the day: nympholepsy. (Scroll down on the blog, to see what I mean.) The Black Book published in Paris in 1938 was apparently too racy to be published in England until the 70s. Interesting. Durrell himself was a pretty interesting guy. Born in British India, he was schooled in England. When he married his first wife (first of four, each with increasingly unique names: Nancy, Eve, Claude-Marie, Ghislaine) he encouraged her and the rest of his family to move to Corfu. After reading Tropic of Cancer, he sent Henry Miller a love letter and the two became lifelong friends. They formed a creative collaborative that eventually published The Black Book. Based on the one sentence I’ve read, I’m anticipating reading some great writing.