_The Gardens of the Dead_ by William Brodrick

Excellent book. Excellent. :) I’ll write more later.

Some of you know my fascination with the link between food and death. Said after a wake, by a family friend who is cooking for the family:

“Plates, glasses and the amenities of joy, if you please,” he said solemnly. “Even now, a this painful time, we cannot waver.” (p. 22)

A man who is describing his dead wife — a wife who had a past that she tried to hide — as a butterfly:

“She moved warily, as if she’d been netted once…and was forever mindful of where she’d been. When I first saw her at court, I had to follow her. There was something about her eyes, the movement of her arms. So I tracked her progress. Nothing could keep me away, neither nettles or thorns, and I went through the lot, bare-legged without a net, never wanting t o trap her, only hoping to be nearby. That’s how it was when we got married. I had to keep my distance, all scratched and swollen.” His grip on his son eased, but only slightly. “But when I least expected it — many years later — she came to me…I could barely breathe; I could only look at her broken wings with wonder, with astonishment, that she could still fly, and that she had deigned to rest on me.” His blue eyes began to move, checking labels. “Nothing Riley told you could come between me and the love I have for your mother.” (p. 270)

A Prior discussing fairness and good and evil:

“When I first went into the confessional, I believed that all evil, at root, was a wound and never a choice — and I still hold on to that, when I can. But I’ve met charming people who tell me they’ve done unconscionable things, quite freely, without the benefit of yesterday’s misfortune. And I believe them. The wounded and the free: they both break windows. But there’s one narrow piece of ground upon which they have an equal footing. It might seem unfair, but forgiveness is available to each — not because they can prove they deserve it, but because they can both say sorry. I used to think it scandalous that each could be reprieved on the same basis, just as easily, when the deserts of one so outweighed the other.” (p. 318)

And it’s a good mystery, to boot.