“I suppose what I most value are real humans and imagination. It is possible we cannot have one without the other . . . in this sense, my books are my real estate.”
Real Estate is the third book in Deborah Levy's “Living Autobiography” trilogy. As she approaches her 60th birthday she is preoccupied with the idea of home. She is divorced and lives in a decrepit apartment block in London but dreams of her ideal home which has a pomegranate tree in the yard and an egg-shaped fireplace. As her younger daughter is about to leave for university Levy accepts a fellowship in Paris and moves into an almost bare apartment near the Abbesses Metro Station. She travels to Berlin to support a recently separated friend who is having a birthday. She shops mindfully for some lovely gifts for her which she accidentally deposits in the trash on her way to the airport. Towards the end of the book she settles briefly in a house in a small Greek village where she thinks about all the doors she has closed behind her in her life. Throughout she muses about the writing process, being a woman, motherhood, her friendships, her shoes, mango ice cream and the possessions that hold meaning for her. This is her life, written with insight, humour and wisdom, and I'm grateful that she has shared it with us.
I have not read the first book in this trilogy but I'm curious about her earlier life so I purchased it today and look forward to reading it soon.
My reviews of some of Levy's previous books:
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