Sunday, 6 September 2009

Susan Sontag's grave, Montparnasse


















Something dies within us when we learn of someone's death. Luckily for writers and artists in general there is always the remaining work which will live a lot longer than their physical presence.
A couple of summers ago while in Paris I decided to visit the Cemetery of Montparnasse. There I found many known names and a great number of unknowns. I was specifically looking for this grave of the great American novelist and critic.
And whilst standing before the imposing black stone of her tomb I could not help but let the mind wander, and pondered about our finite amount of days on this earth; of our wasting time on futile exercises and of how we could have written a better novel of our lives had we pursued our dreams with more faith and dedication.

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