Wonderful article for the Guardian by Hilary Mantel on the presence of the past in our lives, and how some people are more atuned to the traces of time.
I have been reading enthusiatic reviews and raves about Mantel's latest book, Wolf Hall, winner of the Booker Prize. I am anxious to pick up a copy but poor and bohemian as I am I have to wait until second-hand bookshops quench my thirst or my local libraries have some copies available. I loved Mantel's Beyond Black and Thomas Cromwell is a figure I am intrigued by but know little about, so it should be a great ride.
The article is very unassuming but I think it raises a fine point about writers being in synch with the world in stranger ways than other people. I refuse the notion of writers somehow being "special" but I feel understably mystic about my profession sometimes, or at least about myself - being in the business of painting the world with words is an odd affair, moody, and sometimes we find ourselves weeping over ancient stones like fools. That's what I like about the article.
