[Pala late – Ariel -, kai kamlas “E Balval ande le Selchinde”… Me xalem lako ilo !]
I read Kenneth Grahame’s “The Wind in the Willows” (in a paperback, clumsily illustrated edition) as a teenager, after my father died, and it soothed my mind and helped me to stand the blow in a way I could not explain, beyond saying it made me feel snug and somewhat protected. Naturally, this book still is among my favourites.
When I read it again, two decades later -perhaps, trying to reproduce the same sensations I had at fifteen years-old-, I already knew the illustrations by Inga Moore and, contemplating them, I though “This is it. This story “looks” like this, and not in any other way.” (Which is, of course objectionable, but also very valid; and frankly speaking, I must say that I love the illustrations as much as the tale itself -and…
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