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Revisiting Lawrence Durrell’s The Alexandria Quartet --- Paul M. Curtis | Numéro Cinq
Like Paul Curtis, as a young writer I was enthralled by Lawrence Durrell's four astounding novels --- Justine, Balthazar, Mountolive & Clea --- together known as The Alexandria Quartet. I can't count the vivid snippets of scene and dialogue that still float up in my mind: especially the end of Clea when the painter's wounded hand can suddenly "paint" as here healthy hand had never been able to do or the moment when the feckless journalist (a minor character throughout) returns from war in the desert, a tan, golden warrior who has suddenly found his place in existence. Yes, I love the transformations at the end of the quartet, when time suddenly moves forward. I loved the mysterious and ineffably sad hand prints on the brothel walls, Justine's mad search for her stolen child, and Pursewarden's epigrams