The anecdote about Harry’s frostbitten nether regions, for instance, segues into a moment of reflection about the invasiveness of the press. But in the book they do serve a larger purpose than spilling the tea. Since the book accidentally hit bookshelves in Spain days before its intended publication, outlets like Page Six and the Daily Mail have dug through the memoir’s pages for the most sensational parts. There are too many titillating details to keep the tabloids occupied. Such passages have so far been missing from the rabid press coverage of Spare. And yet…how could someone so far beyond everyday language remain so real, so palpably present, so exquisitely vivid in my mind? How was it possible that I could see her, clear as the swan skimming towards me on that indigo lake? How could I hear her laughter, loud as the songbirds in the bare trees-still?” The most recognizable woman on the planet, one of the most beloved, my mother was simply indescribable, that was the plain truth. People routinely compared her to icons and saints, from Nelson Mandela to Mother Teresa to Joan of Arc, but every such comparison, while lofty and loving, also felt wide of the mark. “Although my mother was a princess, named after a goddess, both those terms always felt weak, inadequate.
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