“For him, England has always been a land of fairy tales: a world of pictures, of black-and-white sketches depicting pale, chubby children eating currant buns. A land of fairies and witches, hedgerows and secret gardens, goblins and magical woods. When he arrived he was surprised to find it looked almost exactly as it did in the stories. The trees, the meadows, the little brick houses. He had not come to a real country, but a story come to life. Every day, then, he woke to a fantasy. And no matter how solid and cold and uncomfortable it was, he could never feel it was a country as such, could never quite believe that it had been formed from the same molten stuff that had made his birthplace. England was always secondary, always derivative, always an aftereffect of a story. Perhaps this is why, now, he can decide to leave it.” LifeTruthFantasyBirthStoryMagicalHomesick Book:The Other Side of the World Source: The Other Side of the World
“There is something impoverishing about this mutual mistrust, this mutual suspicion - something mean, and they do not know how to rise above it. Yet both are nostalgic for the same thing: the good life, or at least the fantasy of it.” LifeFantasyNostalgiaStoryMutual Book:The Other Side of the World Source: The Other Side of the World