News of writer P.D. James’ death this week, at 94, sent me to her books in the “J” section of my shelves and then to an hour or so paging about in her memoir, Time to be in Earnest, re-reading bits, savouring details of her activities (the book is written as a diary August 1997 to August 1998 into which she also weaves her memories) and her reactions (the death of Princess Diana that first August, for example: “disbelief, as if….Death has power over lesser mortals but not this icon….The process of beatification was well under way by the end of the day…”). Savoring everything, in fact, because of her wonderfully intelligent, generous voice. I remember how very much I enjoyed reading this book some years ago, and the hours of pleasure with her other books as well. I’ve not read them all by any means, but a good number, including the memorable The Children of Men. And I’ve never forgotten the last paragraph of A Taste of Death: Continue reading →