a week of first paragraphs returns: tuesday


the oranges were more plentiful than usual that year. they glowed in their arbours of burnished green leaf like lanterns, flickering up there among the sunny woods. it was as if they were eager to celebrate our departure from the little island–for at last the long-awaited message from nessim had come, like a summons back to the underworld. a message which was to draw me back inexorably to the one city which for me always hovered between illusion and reality, between the substance and the poetic images which its very name aroused in me. a memory, i told myself, which had been falsified by the desires and intuitions only as yet half-realized on paper. alexandria, the capital of memory! all the writing which i had borrowed from the living and the dead, until i myself had become a sort of postscript to a letter which was never ended, never posted…

–lawrence durrell, clea (the last novel of his alexandria quartet)



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© Robert Patrick, and Cultivar, 2008-2013. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts, photographs and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Robert Patrick and Cultivar with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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