It’s been ten years since I found Pavic’s poetic novels but I got the Landscape almost a year ago and just like with something too precious to touch, I’ve been hiding it between other lovely books that sleep and dream about being read.
I started reading it on the train to Richmond and realised how overwhelming it is, how full of poetry. This is not an easy read, it takes time to sink in and travel through your head to toes.
“Words grow on you like hair” (p.17)
I wish they grew on me like hair, it would all be so easy. So easy to write the letter I’m too scared to write, because at the end of it, when it’s all signed and folded, that will be it. It will make me silent, but certainly not quiet.