The spectre-children sitting–look, such things As dreams are made on, phantoms as of babes, Horrible shadows, that a kinsman’s hand Hath marked with murder, and their arms are full– A rueful burden–see, they hold them up, The entrails upon which their father fed!
Tolstoy was “ a genius in the raw,” and in 1940, remembering her first reading ofWar and Peace, she thought of him as, “more disturbing, more ‘shocking’ more of a thunderclap, even on art, even on literature, than any other writer.” In “The Russian Point...
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