I am done with the first section of this novel, so I’ll post here a short passage that is right toward the end, so as not to give the end away. Part I – Water nearly ends… something like this:
Perhaps, the twin thinks, Arthur should have done more and sooner, made more and bigger revolution, taken more lovers and been more faithful to those that he had loved, furiously faithful. She wishes that they had eaten more fruit together, drunk more wine, that they had prayed more and danced later into the night. She is thinking that his body was burned with what was left of his love, that even now they should dance because there is still fire. Let them dance, she thinks, and those who are dead, let them race over fields, seeking their lovers and their foes, covering the mountain with their footsteps, with their coats. Those left behind envy their enemies who receive this passion, but it is the love that confounds them. She has crawled into the lap of one such as she is in desire, as the sun beat down on them, then gives itself over to the moon, as the sea ebbs in and out between and around them, and they neither burn nor drown.
This mighty stillness tonight; don’t mistake it for peace. There is a restlessness as wild rapids, as the sun’s surface and no man is large enough now to be an object of its rage. This rage is huge. It can accomplish great things. It can rest for years and rise again, refreshed and vigorous. It can change everything. But she has no need for eyes if eyes are to see this. And the truth, what is that to the dead but that which is buried in consequences, in circumstances that change in life, but not in death.