Date of publication: 2017-08-26 21:55
"You are at Shell Cottage. It is mine and Bill's 'ouse on the coast. It is protected by a Fidelius Charm and is quite safe. No one knows you are 'ere."
In its structure, Written on the Body most closely resembles monologue. It is an examination of the past, told as the narrator languishes alone in a rented room, at the end of a long, dry summer when the lack of rain has left the withering on the vine. It has not always been so for the narrator she or he recalls other summers, lush and fertile, filled with mutual desire. The path between then and now, a trail strewn with single-minded romantics, male and female lovers alike, is what the narrator must traverse again to determine what went wrong.
The narrator in this book is very complex and even ambiguous. This intriguing characterization is usually considered to be one of the high points of the novel. The ambiguity regarding the narrator. Ask a question Related Study Guides
She looked at her bandaged arm and narrowed her eyes in concentration. Right now it did not matter who it was. Right now all that mattered was that she needed to get better and that she needed to do what was right for her. Just going along and not upsetting people had been the old her, she needed to stand up for herself more and stop letting herself down. Because if what she was feeling about Ron was true than she just couldn't do it anymore. Not to him and not to her.
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Her world again burst into the same unimaginable pain, her body convulsing with it, thrashing against the hard floor. Nerves were flayed by the spell, burning raw under the power of the magic until all she seemed to know was the white flare of pain, until she was again lying there on the marble gasping for air and weeping.
Hermione's left arm was pulled out from where it had been, trying to protect her body, the sleeve torn open and Bellatrix knelt alongside to her, whispering happily, "It's a good thing this filthy mudblood can read else all our work would go to waste."
When the narrator confronts Louise with the news delivered by Elgin, Louise reacts by playing down her disease. She feels fine, she protests. She does not trust Elgin, as her husband or as her doctor. Yet the narrator sees only one way to save Louise’s life, only one way to act that is worthy of the love shared with her. The.
Written on the Body is a meditation on the nature of sexual love and passion as experienced by the first-person narrator, whose name and gender are never revealed. The narrative’s primary focus is on the absent Louise, the most recent and apparently most passionately adored of a series of lovers, both men and women. Details of these earlier affairs are interspersed throughout the novel as points of comparison to the all-consuming passion expressed for Louise. Alternately anguished and exhilarated, cynical and romantic, the monologue immediately establishes the circumstances of lost love, although why and how this loss came about is not revealed until later. The narrator addresses his/her thoughts and ruminations at times to the absent Louise, at others to the reader.
The torment continued a little longer and then when her sounds dropped to weak sobs, Fleur delicately rewrapped her arm with a fresh bandage. Hermione was barely conscious, as her already low reserves had been depleted even more by the renewed pain caused by the healing. Her eyes were open a mere slit and her head lolled to the side as it was difficult to hold it up. She was too drained to do more to keep it straight. "I 'ave a Calming Draught for you and potion to 'elp 'eal the effects of the Cruciatus. Thankfully, you were not under it too long or the effects would be worse. Ron and 'arry could not say 'ow long she 'ad you under it. If I 'ad any Dr. Ubbly's Oblivious Unction I would give it to you, to 'elp you forget what 'appened to you as that might 'elp."
The idea was so chilling that it was easy to dismiss the idea. Than if she didn't feel that way about him what did she feel for Ron? They were very close, about as close as Harry and she were, and she had felt hurt last year at school with that mess with Lavender Brown. Moreover, she had clung to his side when he was recovering from his poisoning. The way they fought about things. Didn't that mean that she had feelings for him?
It hurt and her mind was a maelstrom, cut loose from what she had known. What did this all mean? Did she have to lose Ron? She tried to focus on what she remembered of the dreams she had been having for the last two years, of red hair, kisses, touches, long time lying together in beds, in the grass, in a tub but there were no clear details of anything else. It helped calm her some as the familiarity and comfort of that dream and those images wrapped around her and ramped down the pain. Those dreams had given her such comfort and they did still. Yet if those dreams were not Ron, than who?
Bellatrix was humming happily as she worked, taking her time in order to shape each letter perfectly. The pleasure on the woman's face was chilling. She grinned down at Hermione, very pleased with her developing work. "Now you will always know who you are."