(From the publisher):
One hot afternoon in Lisbon, our narrator, John, finds his mother, who had died fifteen years earlier, seated on a park bench. ďThe dead donít stay where they are buried,Ē she tells him. And so begins a remarkable odyssey, told in simple yet gorgeous prose and with the openness to personal and political currents that has always marked John Bergerís work.
Having promised his mother that he will henceforth pay close attention to the dead, John takes us to a womanís bed during the 1943 bombardment of London, to a Polish market where carrier pigeons are sold, to a Paleolithic cave, to the Ritz Hotel in Madrid. Along the way, we meet an English aristocrat who always drives barefoot, a pedophile schoolmaster, a Spanish sculptor who cheats at poker, and Rosa Luxemburg, among other long-gone presences, and John lets us choose to love each of them as much as he still does.
This is a unique literary journey in which a writerís life and work are inseparable: a fiction but not a conventional novel, a narration in the authorís voice but not a memoir, a portrait that moves freely through time and space but never loses its foothold in the present, a confession that brings with it not regret but a rich deepening of sensual and emotional understanding.
Original title: Here Is Where We Meet: A Fiction
Genre: Fiction→ General Fiction→ Literary Fiction/classics