I've been thinking vaguely that it might be good to re-read Samuel Beckett's Watt soon. But my battered old Calder & Boyars paperback is falling apart now...
So there I was, browsing among the bookshelves of the hospice shop (it has only bookshelves, it sells only books) just now, when I spotted it - the Calder & Boyars paperback Watt, but in near-mint condition, despite its age. I opened it, and on the flyleaf was written, in a childish hand:
'To Dada,
with many happy returns of the day
(30 March 1971)
lots of love from Caroline.
"Thou hast nor youth nor age
But as it were an after dinner sleep,
Dreaming of both."
(Gerontion: T.S. Eliot)'
Musing, I bought it.
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