tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8011557877105021955.post7082254156887690126..comments2024-03-25T22:59:30.053+00:00Comments on Desperate Reader: Jeanette Winterson's Christmas Days with Champagne Desperate Readerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15708411387912078122noreply@blogger.comBlogger2125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8011557877105021955.post-79135863329908282772016-12-20T19:28:09.810+00:002016-12-20T19:28:09.810+00:00I like your Christmas Eve tradition with your Moth...I like your Christmas Eve tradition with your Mother.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8011557877105021955.post-78825516455693367792016-12-20T16:36:44.845+00:002016-12-20T16:36:44.845+00:00Reading Jeanette Winterson is like drinking vintag...Reading Jeanette Winterson is like drinking vintage champagne from Paul Getty's cellar.<br />At other times it is like drinking from a stream of pure, crystal-cold water.<br />Only water can quench the thirst.<br />Her novel Art and Lies and her essays Art Objects have a permanent place on my bookshelves.<br />She can be both intoxicating and sobering.<br />As Edna O'Brien said, the unconscious is the big room.<br />Jeanette Winterson's writing comes from that big room.<br />Call it a deep underground spring.<br />This explains the profound connection she makes with her readers. <br />I shall be reading her new book when the Christmas trees have been dumped outside on the pavements.<br />Did Hans Anderson write a story about Christmas trees being thrown out with the rubbish or was it Jeanette Winterston?<br />J Haggerty<br /><br />Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com