Griffiths is a unique voice in literature. With a ferocious and fearless intellect she dissects our political landscape. So far, so impressive. But it is her visionary insight into fundamental human truths that touches the nerve. And it is her beauteous facility with language that brackets her works with those of great literature.
Griffiths describes why we all - and, most punishingly, children - fail to thrive when deprived of our 'kith'. Why the lack of connection to, and freedom in, our land throttles an essential wellspring of the human animal.
The startling insights in 'Kith' cannot properly be described, however, by any reductionist précis. It is rather the sensitivity of Griffiths' observations which are transformative, having the ability to take us to places we had forgotten we knew. For example:
"A hush surrounds the daydreaming child, a different kind of air; as if the nearby air of the ordinary had evaporated into the air which the soul breathes..."
transported me from the de-sensitivity of adulthood to again experience the wondering, entranced reverie which we felt as children when our minds drifted magically and without boundary over all that is known and unknown.
"Before a mirror had meaning, before my skin was a boundary, I remember nature as if it were inside me. Birds sang and I heard it inside. It snowed: I snowed. It rained: I rained... I was all the world and all the world was me"
vividly conjures the Zen state that children naturally experience, and adults in deep meditation attain, on transcending the crude and artificial dualism of subject/object.
This work is, like Griffiths' other books, an exposition of rare beauty because it is transformative, re-opening our hearts to the truths of life which we buried far, far away when we stopped being all the world and tried to be an 'adult'.