The Thirteenth Tale
By Diane Setterfield
"People disappear when they die. Their voice, their laughter, the warmth of their breath. Their flesh. Eventually their bones. All living memory of them ceases. This is both dreadful and natural. Yet for some there is an exception to this annihilation. For in the books they write they continue to exist. We can rediscover them. Their humor, their tone of voice, their moods. Through the written word they can perplex you. They can alter you. All this, even though they are dead. Like flies in amber, like corpses frozen in ice, that which according to laws of nature should pass away is, by the miracle of ink on paper, preserved. It is a kind of magic" (17).
"'But silence is not a natural environment for stories. They need words. Without them they grow pale, sicken and die. And then they haunt you'" (300).
I often read for the sake of reading. So when I stumble across a book I can get lost in I am in heaven. This book was one of those novels. I couldn't put it down. I read it for the story itself, not just to read the sentences. The words painted a world for me that I lived in for a short time. It was not someone else's book, it was mine. Books like this are harder and harder to come by it seems. Especially when it comes to modern literature. I can get lost in a classic any day but I rarely get consumed by a book written in the last century. This book was incredible and I highly recommend it.