![]() Whatever transpired between Annemarie and Carson might be open to a biographer’s interpretation what happens between Jenn and Carson seems clearly like love. “But I suppose we could call those letters a turning point.” She’s moved to catalog the writer’s effects, which have been waiting for a scholar’s attention for years she cuts her hair short and embraces the label lesbian she abandons her hunt for an academic job to write the book we’re reading. “I am as hesitant to ascribe steady narrative meaning to my own life as to any other’s,” Shapland writes. This suggestion that a writer firmly within the American canon-albeit one whom she’d not read-might have loved women strikes a nerve. It was very little to go on, and yet I felt an utter certainty: Carson McCullers had loved women. ![]() I had written letters like these to the women I’d loved. Annemarie’s language in her letters to Carson is intimate, suggestive, or I read it that way. ![]()
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