A fictionalized account of my childhood: the intense imaginative life of my early experiences, my delight in the new world I found around me, my unrestricted love for my mother (not to last alas) and hers for me. My memories of these first lights are very hazy so I have had to imagine them. But it doesn't feel like that, they feel real. Are the prototypes of what I have imagined in my subconscious somewhere? Perhaps they are. It is only through fiction that we ...