Doris Lessing
The Good Terrorist
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
Fourth Estate
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd. 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF
Previously published in paperback by Grafton Books 1986, Paladin 1990, Flamingo 1993, as a Flamingo Modern Classic 2003, and as a Harper Perennial Modern Classics Edition 2007
First published in Great Britain by Jonathan Cape Ltd 1985
Copyright © Doris Lessing 1985
PS Section Copyright © Sarah O’Reilly 2007, except ‘The Languages We Use’ copyright © Doris Lessing 2007
PS™ is a trademark of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd
Doris Lessing asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this ebook on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins ebooks
HarperCollinsPublishers has made every reasonable effort to ensure that any picture content and written content in this ebook has been included or removed in accordance with the contractual and technological constraints in operation at the time of publication
Source ISBN: 9780007247219
Ebook Edition © JANUARY 2012 ISBN: 9780007381685 Version: 2016-08-25
Contents
Q & A: Doris Lessing talks to Sarah O’Reilly about The Good Terrorist
The house was set back from the noisy main road in what seemed to be a rubbish tip. A large house. Solid. Black tiles stood at angles along the gutter, and into a gap near the base of a fat chimney a bird flew, trailing a piece of grass several times its length.
‘I should think, 1910,’ said Alice, ‘look how thick the walls are.’ This could be seen through the broken window just above them on the first floor. She got no response, but nevertheless shrugged off her backpack, letting it tumble on to a living rug of young nettles that was trying to digest rusting tins and plastic cups. She took a step back to get a better view of the roof. This brought Jasper into vision. His face, as she had expected it would be, was critical and meant to be noticed. For