Desolation. Rubble, fragments of plastered wall, broken rafters, the yellow splashes of lyddite everywhere, The drizzle that had started again gleaming on the stones. On the skin of corpses. Many Germans had been caught in the houses. In ten minutes I saw a summary of the whole butcher’s shop of war. The blood, the gapingContinue reading “RKS British Literature: A Mad Lust Not to be Killed (John Fowles)”
