Sunday, 3 August 2014

Tuesday 31st january 1939

A very sensible day yesterday. Saw no one. Took bus to Southwark Bridge. Walked along Thames Street; saw a flight of steps down to the river. I climbed down - a rope at the bottom. Found the strand of the Thames, under the warehouses - strewn with stones, bits of wire, slippery; ships lying off the bridge. Very slippery; warehouse walls crusted, weedy, worn. The river must cover them at high tide. It was now low. People on bridge stared. Difficult walking. A rat haunted, riverine place, great chains, wooden pillars, green slime, bricks corroded, a button hook thrown up by the tide. A bitter cold wind. Thought of the refugees from Barcelona walking forty miles, one with a baby in a parcel.


1 comment:

  1. You described her as a genius modernist writer of the 20th century..I wonder if you yourself like the modernist style of writing?

    I noticed you also like the Romantic movement of the 19th century..

    Sometimes I wonder if people truly love something, or are they just appreciating it because they live in the time when that something is in the fad?

    Which do you like better, the Romantic style in literature (and other more traditional styles) or the modernist style?