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We Need Silence to Find Out What We Think About Maxwell
In his last extraordinary year of life, while Emily Maxwell was slowly dying with a grace, a philosophy, and I would say a beauty that remains indescribable, Bill Maxwell reread War and Peace. His solace and pleasure in the book were an event in those rooms. We rejoice together over certain scenes, not discussing or dissecting them, but paying simply the tribute of our delight. He would speak of these episodes shedding his silent tears, not in grief, but for the grandeur of common humanity. When the book became too heavy for him to hold, a friend came each afternoon and read it for him. Five days before Emmys death, the Maxwells in wheelchairs