Emboldened by their mother’s death, Tina Hutchence’s nuanced book challenges the tabloid take on her brother
Everything about Michael looked different, his sister thought. He was paler, duller in the eyes, more slumped in the shoulders. Even his Byronic curls seemed to have lost their bounce. It brought to mind the Emily Dickinson poem After Great Pain, a Formal Feeling Comes:
The Feet, mechanical, go round –
A Wooden way
Of Ground, or Air, or Ought –
Regardless grown,
A Quartz contentment, like a stone –
from The Guardian https://ift.tt/2zu74Or
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