C.S. Lewis' novel Till We Have Faces: A Myth Retold is a retelling of the myth of Cupid and Psyche. It is a lovely and haunting telling of a story that I, mythology geek that I am, never found at all compelling. It's always fascinating when these well-known stories can surprise me; it's not what happens, but how. So I won't give away the ending, but I'll just say that in a very strange way, it reminds me of Memento with the way it leaves me hanging, having read all the words or seen all the action and still wondering what the real story is.
P.S. Someone wrote on a sticky note inside the back cover of my library copy: The past is unchangeable but how it is seen is not, making all future pasts at once thrilling and changeable.
mankee07 says:
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mankee