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Back in grad school, I loved reading
Daniel Defoe’s novel MOLL FLANDERS. Moll was a scrappy survivor
and an utterly unreliable narrator. Her story was full of fortune and
misadventure, and her journey through old England to the shores of
colonial America gave me the kind of imaginative experience of an era
that only fiction can offer. I thought a lot about MOLL FLANDERS as I
dove into Francis Spufford’s GOLDEN HILL.
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