I USE THE PUBLIC LIBRARY weekly and, when I return home, stash my haul on a bookshelf. On the shelf at this moment are several histories, a gardening book, and Ian McEwan’s The Child in Time, a novel about the abduction of a three-year-old girl and the unraveling of her parents’ marriageÑguilt, anger, grief, loneliness. I’m a quarter of the way through this tidy novel but may return it to the library, unfinished. Words are underlined in pencil by one of the previous readers, who, I suspect, was trying to improve her vocabularyÑdeciduous, reptilian, affability, provenance, slow loris, averse, etc.
The underlined words have halted my progress and not because of annoyance. As a poet, invariably searching for the right words myself, I began to consider the author of these…