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Description
Characteristic
| Book cover finish | Hardcover ( rounded spine binding ) |
| Special features | Dust jacket, Dedicated copy |
| Condition | Old, like new |
| Number of pages | 282 |
| Published date | 1976 |
| Languages | English |
| Size | 14 x 22 x 3 cm |
| Author | Spencer Dunmore |
| Editor | PETER DAVIES |
Description
PROLOGUE
I am ancient. A relic. Rheumy of eye and wobby of limb, I observe the steady deterioration of the untidy bundle of pipes and bones, muscles and tissue that is me. I suffer from no specific ailment, simply a general wearing - down of everything. There can't be a great deal of time left. Does the knowledge sadden me or frighten me ? I don't think so. I believe I can truthfully claim to accept the inevitability of my years with a certain tranquillity ; even at times with some impatience.
My memory works better than anything else. Admittedly, I have been known to mix up my decades ; occasionally, I have even managed to confuse my world wars. In the main, however, I remember it all with remarkable clarity. I have discovered an intense pleasure in memory. The human animal in decline seems to nourish itself on retrospection in much the same way that it fed on hope and ambition ( and lust, I suppose ) in its younger days.
I am ninety. ( ... )
