Disconnected fragments of fairytales, allegories and allusions at the whim of Ali/Alix the storyteller? Or a celebration of physical love? And just who is telling what could be the straightforward tale of a 'brief encounter'? You'll have to read this beautiful book to find out!
Fragments, hints, clues, letters persuade me on. I've come near it sometimes, but like Lancelot outside the Chapel of the Grail, I haven't been able to go in. I may never go in. In your face, in your body, as you walk and lie down and eat and read, you have become the lineaments of love. When I touch you I touch something deeper than you. This touches something in me otherwise too sunk to recover.