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May sarton recovering a journal6/12/2023 ![]() ![]() Some felt deceived that she did not have as much solitude as her memoirs described, but I remember May often writing in distress about interruptions and too much company. I also checked out some blog posts about May and felt distressed that some readers had completely gone off re-reading her journals because of the biography. The prolific letters took me two days to read (and I have since put in a request for volume one). I feel an affinity with old age because of my childhood spent with my grandma and her peers. I read both of their journeys into old age when I was in my 40s and must read them again now that I am almost there. ![]() In the 1990s, May’s journals had led me to the memoirs of Doris Grumbach. I loved finding a photo of May and Carolyn… I immediately put in an interlibrary loan for the second volume (since her later life interests me the most). Thus it was a relief to me when I read The Last Gift of Time in December 2019 to find a thoughtfully critical but loving chapter all about May, in which Carolyn Heilbrun mentioned May’s books of letters. (I learned this month in May’s letters that May herself had a bad feeling about what Margot was going to write.) I was horrified soon after that to read the truly mean biography of May written by Margot Peters. Back in the 1990s, I read and loved all of May Sarton’s memoirs, Plant Dreaming Deep (plant is a verb, not a noun!), Journal of a Solitude, The House by the Sea, At Seventy, Recovering, After the Stroke. ![]()
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