Physiological and clinical anatomy of the domestic mammals Book

A journal (diary) writer cannot help but compare one's own to the superior eloquence of May Sarton's. Although she planned to publish her journal, her entries are brutally honest. Whatever she might have censored for the public, so much more is revealed. The year (December '78 through November 1979) progressed from utter despair and rages to a much more accepting understanding of her life and its painful changes. (It came to me near the end that she must have been bipolar.) Dated December 29, 1978 she writes: "The light these December mornings has a rather special quality; austere, cold as it is, it has amplitude, a spacious austerity. I live with a wide semi-circle of horizon over and beyond the bare field. Snow would make it richer, but in my mood at present, I rest on the cold gray sea. And wait for the sun's rays to catch a tiny prism Karen Saum hung in my bedroom window, wait for that sudden flame, first crimson then sometimes a flash of blue, startlingly alive."

Despite poetic phrases and deep probing of thoughts and feelings, Sarton's story is raw and rough, hard to bear at times. But of course I highly recommend it.

(NB: Title's years should be 78-79, not 1979 - 1980.)