This book is unreadable.
From the first page on, when details of the tragic accident are revealed, they cling to the psyche like treacle poured on hair.
Every page turned, is done with a weight of sorrow…every sentence read, is done with darkness in the heart.
I had overestimated my appetite for getting through any novel. But the sorrow of a suffering family after the loss of two infants in a car accident, paled every other endeavour and achievement of Isadora into insignificance.
I struggled through the first fifty pages after that I glanced through the rest of the book and every time a reference was made to the children, my heart sank to new lows.
I left the book in a hotel room, and never looked back… This is a first for me… As it sat, unmarked on the reading table, I felt a sense of relief flood over me.
I went to the net to get more information on Isadora Duncan, her beautiful dance, her humongous contribution to creativity and the slow unhinging of her life, right till the time of her accidental and untimely passing away.
Here was a deeply troubled life, that tragedy bore into like termite, making her almost implode…. I couldn’t deal with it…
