In the Blood

William Faulkner's character Quentin in The Sound and the Fury repeatedly observes that temporary is the saddest word of all. Despair over human impermanence and the desire to preserve what has been known and felt, even grief, reverberate at the heart of British Poet Laureate Motion's memoir of his childhood and adolescence in rural postwar England. A paeam to hisfamily, and the secreta hollows of his beloved home, this memoir evokes a whole world long disappeared. The book begins in December of 1968, hours before his mother's foxhunting accident and subsequent coma from which she never recovers. This memoir is far more than a guide to the life behind the poems; it is a stand against the eluctability of time's passing, an insistence that what has been felt in the blood, and felt along the heart, is, as the epigraph from Wordsworth suggests, an integral substance of our anatomy, a part that can be neither taken from us nor lost.