In all my weeding and overhauls of the world around me I haven’t found my copy of Janet Frame’s Pocket Mirror. I have wanted to but somehow it’s hiding among books that breed like fleas and devour me. I hope to have a place for them all, ordered and in straight rows. Completely the opposite of my life and my mind. But that is the way books should behave. Until I find it here is a bit of Janet Frame from somewhere else:
“I don’t wish to inhabit the world under false pretenses. I’m relieved to have discovered my identity after being so confused about it for so many years. Why should people be afraid if I confide in them? Yet people will always be afraid and jealous of those who finally establish their identity; it leads them to consider their own, to seclude it, corset it, for fear it may be borrowed or interfered with, and when they are in the act of protecting it they suffer the shock of realizing that their identity is nothing, it is something they dreamed and never knew; and then begins the painstaking search – what shall they choose – beast? another human being? insect? bird?” — Janet Frame (Towards Another Summer)
Books like people seem to wander into our lives at random but all along they were waiting for the perfect moment. So manitou of the Pocket Mirror, it’s time.