A raindrop fell on my hand,crafted from the Ganges and the Nile,
from the ascended frost of a seal’s whiskers,from water in broken pots in the cities of Ys and Tyre.
Jean Rhys’s haunting and hallucinatory prose poem of a novel, Wide Sargasso Sea (1966), boldly tells the story— authentic, intimate, and unsparing, because first-person confession—of Mrs. Bertha Rochester, the doomed madwoman of Charlotte...
