Photo by Kristian Thomas on Pexels
Hands in Pockets on JSTOR
On a quiet evening in January 2002 I set
off from Norwich to look for the grave of my late professor, W. G. Sebald, at St. Andrews churchyard in Framingham Earl, a journey that would take me
southeast through the Norfolk countryside. Settled behind the wheel of my rented Fiat I headed for the open road, but darkness fell suddenly, as if it had been stealthily waiting for me, and my hopes of getting there
while it was still light-or getting there at all-fell along with it.
off from Norwich to look for the grave of my late professor, W. G. Sebald, at St. Andrews churchyard in Framingham Earl, a journey that would take me
southeast through the Norfolk countryside. Settled behind the wheel of my rented Fiat I headed for the open road, but darkness fell suddenly, as if it had been stealthily waiting for me, and my hopes of getting there
while it was still light-or getting there at all-fell along with it.