james

Virginia Woolf’s masterpiece, 'To the Lighthouse', crafted a world rich with vivid imagery and intense emotions. Today, I wish to share an untold perspective. I am neither Mrs Ramsay nor James. I am the lighthouse, standing firm against the echoes of time.

In the bustling corners of Florence, a young woman named Isabel Archer was embarking on an epoch of self-discovery. Having inherited a fortune, she found herself unchained from the constraints of her earlier life, burdened no more by the expectation of marriage. She was a woman with the freedom of choice that few of her time possessed. This newfound affluence, however, brought with it the insidious lure of exploitation.

Once upon a time, the very same Giant Peach that was once home to James and his insect friends, had returned. It had been years since James had last seen his old home, now a famous landmark in the heart of New York City. As James walked up to the peach, he noticed a soft luminescence emanating from it. Suddenly, a small window appeared on the peach, just as it had years ago. Unable to resist, James climbed into the familiar hollow.

In the quiet town of Woollett, strewn with the dust of an old nostalgia and the vibrancy of modern society, lived a gentleman of quiet disposition, Mr. Albert Rowland. He was a friend of Lambert Strether, the protagonist from 'The Ambassadors' penned by Henry James. The two men, acquainted well, shared intriguing tales of their lives.

Francine was well acquainted with the stories her grandmother Francesca told about the four days in the summer of 1965 that shaped her life. Being the granddaughter of the infamous love chronicle in Robert James Waller's 'The Bridges of Madison County', Francine grew up embracing the bittersweet tale of love, passion, and sacrifice. It was always her lifelong dream to return to the bridges, the silent witnesses of her grandmother's saga.