On the flight back from New Mexico last month I finished the novel, My Dream of You by Irish writer Nuala O’Faolain.
O’Faolain’s writing is gorgeous, startling. Think Hilary Mantel unzipped and shipped north. Colm Tóibín said of his friend’s work that it “was like someone breaking glass.” The writing urges you on even as it makes you wish both that it would last forever, and that the pain it records as the price of a certain beauty would stop. I got to the end of the book, rapturous.
This post is about the tune that led me to the book.