Recaptures the dying sixties., Stephanie walks from pregnancy to pain through the world of betrayed promises and finds a steel resolve, and an unexpected friend.
Remember Bob Dylan and ‘Boots of Spanish Leather’? He walked these same streets to a bar in Coconut Grove before his guitar was amplified. Remember Joan Baez and Woodstock? Recall the flowers in the rifle barrels and the braziers of Aldermarston? What about Mary Quant, and Abbey Road? If you remember those, then this is may be for you. It will remind you, and help your children to know the country of your past, and why you sometimes seem disappointed.
This distilled novel fits no category: It is not exactly fiction because the story is true in essence, truer as myth; it is not poetry as such, there are too many insistent voices; it is not history although its place and time are past. It is simply experience singing a song, to the ears and eyes of memory.
It recaptures the optimism of innocence when all things still seemed possible; before the dreams surrendered to the grey men in grey suits. It tells Stephanie’s tragic story but her story is also the story of that golden time
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