you had a last chance to see things clearly before being flung into the full business of being yourself among others, at which point things proceeded too fast for proper examination.” Or the behaviour of grief: “He was not in charge of grief. Until certain lines, phrases, sentences become part of your emotional vocabulary, until you start thinking of certain experiences in such terms.
Not only does Barnes put half-formed thoughts into words, he also has a dangerous habit of putting them extremely well. Such moments are abundant in Julian Barnes’s fiction. Given the narcissistic nature of most readers, it is also often a moment of intense pleasure.
Sometimes, when reading a book, you reach a line that makes you stop: that’s it, exactly, and then, how did he know? It’s a moment of pure surprise, pure discovery, to find a thought you almost recognize as your own staring back at you from the page. Pulse By Julian Barnes, Jonathan Cape, Rs 599
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