“If it’s up to me, I would make love all day long. Nothing else fascinates me, be it erudition, speculation, religion or whatever else. To be absolutely honest, it seems to me that the only honourable thing to do is to commit suicide.
Making love is a sort of suicide, don’t you think?”
With these words, Amanda, the girl with whom the story of this book invites you to travel, is not teasing. Her voyaging explores the very meaning of Life. Along the way, she asks some hard questions which you and I might want to avoid; she challenges the soft answers which many of us might impulsively propose. At the end, we all might be grateful for her persistence.
This book is about the story of your life. In many ways, Amanda could be you. For all of us, surely, carry within us that stubborn feeling of discontent which resists distinctness. All of us are in search of that ever-eluding fulfilment. This book can come in useful. It may hurt at first,
yet its curative touch is delicate and soothing.
After all, it perhaps speaks of nothing else but the consummation of love.
