'Tis the season, yes, of darkness and cold. Winter solstice looms. There are terrible reminders of our hearts of darkness in the recent disclosures about torture and in the sadly, strangely necessary hashtag black lives matter. I know this is an especially difficult period--the holidays, the early night--for people who suffer from depression, recent loss, or seasonal affective disorder (SAD).
But I hunker down in the darkness, reading, beside the Christmas tree that lights up my lucky little corner of life.
I've been reading Cleopatra's Sister, by Penelope Lively, a fascinating look at fate, randomness, alternatives, accidents. It's a novel that allowed me to revisit a bit of the history of Cleopatra, particularly her sister Berenice, who is imagined as surviving and having her own affair with Mark Antony in a fictional land of the past, which is the fictional land of the present that the novel's main characters...land in. My actual sister, who once played Cleopatra, arrives soon after the solstice to celebrate Christmas with us! So, in this way, I am Cleopatra's sister. And here, on an alternative cover, are Cleopatra's sweet, sandaled feet.
Did you crawl behind the Christmas tree to read? That was my favorite part of Christmas as a kid.
ReplyDeleteI did indeed! As a kid, not this morning.
ReplyDelete...or her sister's feet...
ReplyDelete