Margaret Atwood's Blind Assassin
Sometimes I write down an excerpt from a book I’m reading, and in reading Margaret Atwood‘s Blind Assassin, I feel like typing out the whole book on my blog.
Of course, I can’t do that, so here’s a para I read last night:
She did understand, or at last she understood that she was supposed to understand. She understood, and said nothing about it, and prayed for the power to forgive, and did forgive. But he can’t have found living with forgiveness that easy. Breakfast in a haze of forgiveness: coffee with forgiveness, forgiveness on the buttered toast. He would have been helpless against it, for how can you repudiate something that is never spoken?
Wow.