Constance:or Solitary Practices (Avignon Quintet, Book 3)

Constance:or Solitary Practices (Avignon Quintet, Book 3)

Lawrence Durrell

Language: English

Pages: 356

ISBN: 0670239097

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub

With the Second World War in full fury, Constance must explore the psyche of a mad world in order to save herself and those closest to her in the third volume of the Avignon Quintet

Durrell's beautiful Avignon Quintet continues with this harrowing, tumultuous installment. Here the protagonist is Constance, a psychoanalyst and mystic struggling for clarity in a world on fire with war, hatred, and inexplicable brutality. Her quest for sanity takes her through the deserts of Egypt (and into the arms of the leader of a suicide cult), through war-ravaged Poland, and finally into ancient Avignon. In the fields of southern France, Constance sees a religious historical drama come to a close—a mysterious narrative that began with the Knights Templar and ends with Hitler's mad grab for power.

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her shorn head peered with an expression of nervous vagueness. And now came Quiminal with a man who was apparently a doctor for he carried the forms which attested to the death of someone “from natural causes”. But first he went through the parody of verifying the death by placing a stethoscope upon the pulse. (The strangulation marks were hidden by the shroud.) Then he went into the outer office and wrote industriously for a moment upon several forms which he thrust upon Quiminal before taking

she is right about her pussy.’ When the documentation is poor or incomplete the woman knows it at once – indeed it creates a state of alarm. The quality of loving, of coupling falls off, and the man’s erections become compromised, his sterility sets in. All this not seen from the selfish point of view of a couple becoming tired of each other, but as a form of cosmic calamity threatening the race and its mental balance. Love-making this way is unaggressive and deeply logical.” Schwarz began to

was in the month of August; only the clipped and raked vineyards belied the thought, for as yet the first green pilot leaves had not appeared on the black crucifixes. But birds there were in plenty, and the General popped away at them while his slave loaded the smoking guns for him. A certain wilful confusion hangs over the incident which now took place – some believing it an accident due to the General’s thoughtlessness. What actually happened was as follows. Beside the chair of the General was

even now as it was occupied and defeated, it emanated life and hope. So long as there was one point of light in the bleak world there was hope. And Constance was irrationally proud that it was England which had fed this flame. Though the defeat and the betrayal hung heavy, people had begun to feel that it was redeemable. It was sufficient to hope for the moment. And in the final analysis hearts rose to realise that already France Libre under its youngest General had twenty thousand French

no hitch, or that Quiminal had not forgotten her promise. “No, no,” said Blaise; “If she said she will come, she will come. She is a Protestant, after all.” He had hardly uttered the prophetic phrase when they heard the peculiar and characteristic seething noise of the Volkswagen engine and the whine of its tyres on the gravel before the gate. They stood up somewhat irresolutely and waited for the girl, who walked down the garden path and clicked open the latch of the kitchen door, to find

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