This morning I lay in bed and finished Fiona Farrell's The Broken Book. It moves me, the way she set out to write a peaceful book about walking, and then let the earthquakes crack the book open. and become 'a testament to the shaky, wayward paths we walk.'
Shaky are the paths indeed, and yet I felt safe walking with her. Her prose is precise and beautiful, with rhythm and exquisite juxtapositions.
The poems, which run through the book like fissures, are also openings to light. The book ends with the sea and hills falling, and yet asserts the power of love. It was the perfect book to complete on Easter Monday.