Let us speak, then, of remembrance. After reading what Maurice Saatchi told Bryan Appleyard last week about the grief he still suffers a year after the death of his wife Josephine Hart, whose book Life Saving: Why We Need Poetry has just been published, I’ve found it hard to think about anything, not even the American presidential elections, except love, its ravages, the price we pay for it, and the terrible, sacramental obligations it imposes on memory.