I think this was meant to be an interview with Margaret Atwood, but by slow degrees, it turns into something much more gruesome - and hilarious. I haven't read a word by Atwood, but if this interview is anything to go by, she must be freaking brilliant. I found it via a link on 'Blink and You'll Miss It.' Enjoy.
Matthew Fox: I encountered it in a Victorian literature class at Concordia. I really was struck by the way that "Great Aunts," your essay, reminded me of the end of The Mill on the Floss. There's a chapter where an aunt - very much unlike your own aunts, but an aunt nonetheless - turns around from being judgemental in order to support the central character. Like that, the message I got from your essay was that you were getting acceptance from a place called "home." Do you look for that sort of thing now? Where's home now?
Margaret Atwood: I'm too old for that.
MF: You're too old?
MA: How old are you?
MF: Twenty-seven.
MA: Well, just wait.
MF: Okay.
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