I just finished this lovely, uncharacterizable book by Jenny Boully. The Book of Beginnings and Endings is a series of, for lack of better words, prose poems. Each page is the beginning of a piece of writing, followed by an ending. And while each "essay" is very different, there is a beguiling unity to the voice. Something happens as you come to the end of each beginning, a sense of loss because what you are starting is slipping through your fingers, and when you turn to the ending, you don't know where you've gone. It is very beautiful, reminding me of Italo Calvino, Rikki Ducornet, and Ben Marcus"My body wasn't taken with me, the soul being a very spacious thing. Our dreams were correct: we would come to, over time, discover independent yet certain truths.
Discovery number one: it is lonely."
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