This is our last dance. This is ourselves.

Thursday, 18 November 2010

time stopped working.

I have just finished this book. Written by Bauby, an editor-in-chief of French Elle, who suffered a stroke, leaving him with locked-in syndrome. He had control over his left eye which he blinked when an assistant passed their finger over the correct letter. Each word in the book took approximately two minutes to write. He died two days after its French publication.
It is one of the saddest books I have ever read. This man is completely alert and awake in mind, completely dead in body. Being able to have the insight into his mind is touching but it's almost too much. It's not an easy read but for me, it really makes you value what you have. It makes you question whether you are really using the opportunity of life in the best and most full ways. This could happen to any one, at any point. Would you be satisfied with the life you have led so far if you had no chance to further it?

Now, it is winter. And winter for me means my annual reading of Du Maurier's Rebecca. I first read the book when I was 15 and have read it once a year ever since. Reading the first few lines is like entering in to a secret world, being acquainted with old friends and manners of speech. Winter comforts are so appreciated by summer girls, of which I am definitely one.


  1. make sure you see the film now!

  2. oh sorry..
    The diving bell and the butterfly