Memory, I Realize, Can Be An Unreliable

She Always Wanted To Believe In Things.

I Saw A New World Coming Rapidly. More Scientific, Efficient, Yes. More Cures For The Old Sicknesses. Very Good. But A Harsh, Cruel, World. And I Saw A Little Girl, Her Eyes Tightly Closed, Holding To Her Breast The Old Kind World, One That She Knew In Her Heart Could Not Remain, And She Was Holding It And Pleading, Never To Let Her Go.

I Think I Had Actually Served My Apprenticeship As A Writer Of Fiction By Writing All Those Songs. I Had Already Been Through Phases Of Autobiographical Or Experimental Stuff.

I Want My Words To Survive Translation. I Know When I Write A Book Now I Will Have To Go And Spend Three Days Being Intensely Interrogated By Journalists In Denmark Or Wherever. That Fact, I Believe, Informs The Way I Write - With Those Danish Journalists Leaning Over My Shoulder.

To See The Best Before I Have Properly Begun Would Be Somewhat Premature.