Henry Fielding Book

Following the wake of my recent trip with Stephen Tennant I have of late been transported into the strange hothouse world of the Sitwills, via John Pearson's Facades: Edith, Osbert and Sachervell Sitwell (London: MacMillan, 1978). Years ago during my forays into English literature, and to satifsy my quest to read the canon of English literature I had read Edith Sitwell's English Eccentrics and I had always intended to return to their strange and poetic world. But life's circumstances, school, required readings kept from sinking into the great overstuffed chair of their world. I had in the past immersed myself in the concentric worlds of Bloomsbury in London, of Cocteau and Stein in Paris and the expatriate communities of Americans inMorroco, Florence and Venice. Sinking into their magical and yet strange world has been a joy at the end of each day. And meeting so many friends from previous journeys brings back hazy memories of a child seeking to search out the strange, unique, beautiful and wonderous in the world. I have lived with them for a week now, stretching out my reading of their stories, of their lives, because I so much enjoyed traveling with them across Europe and North America on their literary, artistic journeys. When we find ourselves unable to rise out of our own circumstances reading provides such magical worlds outside of ourselves and opens the mind to possibilities, undreamed and unimagined.