ON CONFESSING TO SOME ODD LOVE AFFAIRS:THE THRILL OF THE ITALIAN GERUND
DESPITE BEING MARRIED TO THE SAME MAN FOR DECADES, I CONFESS TO STILL FALLING IN LOVE QUITE REGULARLY. BUT NOT WITH ANYTHING OR ANYBODY ANYONE COULD BE JEALOUS OF. PAR EXEMPLE/AD ESSEMPIO/FOR EXAMPLE, THE ITALIAN GERUND, AND FRANZ KAFKA. Not to mention Albert Camus and Voltaire, with whom I'm in constant communication by letter. And lest you think I only fall for long-dead guys, I'll add the already married Andre Aciman, who had me from the first line of "Lavender" (See DEAR ANDRE ACIMAN ). And also my friend, Jacqueline Raoul-Duval, whose "Kafka in Love" is a revelation. I'm also torn between having an affair with two quite different literary detectives. At first I could never imagine the Sicilian Montalbano having a worthy rival. But then Donna Leon's Commissario Brunetti came along, and now I don't know what to do. (See THE MYSTERY OF HOW I FELL UNDER THE SPELL OF WRITE... ) And on the topic of quirky love affairs, I used to be in love ...