In The Firstborn, British author Laurie LEE – famous for his autobiographical novel Cider with Rosie – wrote – about his newborn daughter Jessy:
Looking at those weaving hands and complicated ears, the fit of the skin round that delicate body, I can't indulge in the neurosis of imagining all this to be merely a receptacle for Strontium 90. The forces within her seem much too powerful to submit to a blanket death of that kind.
Try as I might, I cannot make sense of the phrase 'blanket death'… Is it a death that is slow in coming? a death that touches everyone? Does the phrase exist or did Lee use poetic licence?