The subtle things

I spent much of last week working through a book I have to write a review of. So this weekend I finally returned to Reading Lolita in Tehran.
I finally put it down too -- and asked a few other readers what they thought, and most came back with, comments indicating I wasn't the only one. For some reason I assumed it was a work of crafted fiction, not a memoir. Perhaps that explains it -- even so, there are a few passages that are solid. It's when the author drives down the road of political memory that things go awry -- then the story slips, then the characters are lost, then the focus changes.

I decided I have to read something good and thus returned to T.S. Eliot's Four Quartets. It's online here if you haven't seen it. I prefer the hard copy. Tomorrow I'll paste one of my favorite passages -- an incredible piece of writing that elucidates life and the artistic process.