How would you interpret ‘landscape’ here? She’d seen the first of the stories several days ago, but didn’t phone, hoping to spare me embarrassment for a while. Or else, not knowing what to say. All the stories linking us romantically, she has been carrying that alone. Remarks and stares at the library and the market. I know she is often recognized. I couldn’t read much of it. It made me feel too helpless, lost in some landscape of murdered truth. Lev would have been scientific, tracking the trail of this particular prevarication, studying how the branches diverged and where the thing started. Probably in Star Week or the Echo, though the story also made the reputable papers, and of course the Trumpet. It always begins somewhere, one howler waking up the others. How would you interpret ‘landscape’ in the phrase: lost in some landscape of murdered truth? Does it mean ‘scene’? Thanks! This excerpt is taken from The Lacuna by Kingsolver.