A middle-aged writer, recently separated from her husband and living in her ancestral New England home, gets in touch with her feelings about such meaty matters as maleness and femaleness, inner and outer selves, Things and how they relate to Self, in a kind of stereo communication via her life and her writing. Katherine is alone with her dog Red after a let-down, showdown, with husband Morgan, now in Europe. She resented his refusal to share her excitements about living; he claimed ""you paralyze others with your excitement."" So here's Katherine in a lovely old house surrounded by family artifacts that have ""perpetually jazzed me with the insistence of their presences."" Has she ""profaned"" herself with chattels? Then there's the problem of her sole heir, nephew Richie, handsome, sinister, shrewd. Katherine narrowly escapes with her life, via Nature and nephew, but she does come to grips with Morgan as male--as she ""unplugs"" herself in a story which will illuminate the problem of Space and Selfhood, but also the need of both sexes together to find ""the meaning of who we are."" Freydberg (Winter Concert, The Bride, The Lovely April) writes easily--too easily--in this rush of levitated revelation. However, the seacoast scenery, Red, and some of the disdained artifacts have a certain appeal.