"This work is unlike any other, in its range of rich, conjuring imagery and its dexterity, its smart voice. Carroll-Hackett doesn’t spare us—but doesn’t save us—she draws a blueprint of power and class with her unflinching pivot: matter-of-fact and tender." —Jan Beatty

Woke up hearing someone singing this, a tenor so golden it surely came from heaven ❤

“You’ll remember me when the west wind moves Upon the fields of barley. You can tell the sun in his jealous sky When we walked in fields of gold….”

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