I thought to myself (in a particularly dark moment) is this the beginning of the end of normal literature? Will everything going forward be in reference to, or about, or in comparison to the pandemic? If it was a dire warning of things to come I could think of no better person than to lead us there gracefully, which is why I never shied away from reading Intimations, Six Essays by Zadie Smith.
When I opened the package, I thought to myself how weird it was that the first book about Covid and its disruptions was finally being printed, and how surreal it felt to put it on my shelf. I distinctly remember the day this book arrived on my doorstep.
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