Excerpt to entice:
It's not that I'm inured to beauty. Imagine that you're talking to a woman who is sitting across a table from you. When you look at her, all you see is a shimmering cloud of light. On the one hand, you are able to observe people as mystical emanations of divine radiance. On the other hand, you don't know what this woman looks like. So you pour some pinot grigio, and you listen. She's talking about hats: late 19th-century "Gibson girl" hats with the flowers and jaunty brims. She's talking about the first great era of catalogue fashion and a new kind of innocent loveliness. A sighted person might have trouble believing this, but if you're having a nice time in a cloud of light, and you're talking about beauty, the person opposite you is, in fact, beautiful.
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