Come, all you who are not satisfied
as ruler in a lone, wallpapered room
full of mute birds, and flowers that falsely bloom,
and closets choked with dreams that long ago died!
Come, let us sweep the old streets – like a bride:
sweep out dead leaves with a relentless broom;
prepare for Spring, as though he were our groom
for whose light footstep eagerly we bide.
We’ll sweep out shadows, where the rats long fed;
sweep out our shame – and in its place we’ll make
a bower for love, a splendid marriage-bed
fragrant wit flowers aquiver for the Spring.
And when he comes, our murdered dreams shall wake;
and when he comes, all the mute birds shall sing.
–Aaron Kramer
And so begins Prodigal Summer. Chapter 1: she is strong, and sexuality is everywhere as is dominance. This chapter, my favorite quote: “But usually by this point in the conversation, it was over. And manners had not been her long suit to begin with, even a lifetime ago when she lived in a brick house, neatley pressed between a husband and neighbors.” What about this book appeals to me? That it is dealing with living off the grid. That she is out of the norm. That she is not young – and he is. That she is uncertain of his attraction to her, and yet she doesn’t repeatedly make him prove his desire to be with her – only the one time as she points out to him the road to town.
The sex scene is beautiful. I could learn a lot. Nothing is overtly stated. All is in the small details. “Their two soft skinned bodies completed their introductions on the floor of her porch. I love what she says about the leftover surname of her husband. “that name is nothing to me now, but it’s still stuck all over my life, on my driver’s license and everything…scent marking.”
Yes, I think I am going to like this book.
