Thursday, November 8, 2012

the last book I ever read (Zadie Smith's NW, excerpt eight)

from NW by Zadie Smith:

People spoke. People sang. And did those feet, in ancient times. Natalie was forced to come and go as each of her children kicked up a fuss. Finally the curtain opened and the coffin disappeared. Dusty Springfield. There are things you can only learn about people after they're dead. As the congregation filed out, Leah stood in the doorway with her mother. She wore a terrible long black skirt and blouse that someone must have lent her. Natalie could hear well-meaning strangers burdening Leah with long, irrelevant memories. Story-telling. "Thank you for coming," said Leah, mechanically, as each passed by. She looked very pale. No siblings. No cousins. Only Michael to help.

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