Abstract

All for love, and nothing for reward. Is love the rosy, many-splendored thing that poets proclaim--or is it something altogether darker and more disturbing? Jill Tweedie's eloquent and disarming account of her own experience of love vividly illustrates how painfully and slowly she learned a truth very different from the popular myth. She explores the very nature, process, and purpose of this most powerful of human forces--and the wrongs that have been done in its name over the centuries--and concludes that perhaps love is not all we need. This is both a searing portrait of love (and the passion it inspires) and a deeply personal and affecting account of this mysterious force and its effect on one woman's life.