![]() ![]() ![]() You cannot find the beginning of the chain that brought us from there to here. ![]() “Let me tell you a few things about regret… There is no end to it. Isn’t everything so raw and melodramatic when you’re a teenager? My worn, yellowed, and well-loved paperback copy bears witness to my teenage angst, with many underlined passages about temperamental love and loneliness being the human condition I was clearly going through some emotional upheaval when I first read it, crawling out the other side from my first heartbreak, and the quotes that resonated with me then, were, without fail, all uttered by a cold, self-centered and manipulative poetess locked away for murder after having poisoned the lover who dared to leave her. White Oleander is one of those books I read at just the right time in my teenage years and that always stuck with me-to the point that I was a little afraid of revisiting it, fearing that it would have lost its magic in the intervening years (after all, another such impactful book was The Shadow of the Wind, which, as I discovered a few years ago, hasn’t aged well at all). ![]()
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