Lara Marlowe writes about her former husband Robert Fisk

The Irish Times correspondent in Paris, Lara Marlow writes most tenderly about her former husband, Robert Fisk in her new book Love in a Time of War: My Years with Robert Fisk. It will be released by Head of Zeus, London on October 28th.

I had the good fortune to interview Lara while I was working with Concern Worldwide. It was a memorable moment and Lara could not have been more helpful and understanding. She was a joy to meet and interview.

Below is an extract from her new book. The extract is taken from The Irish Times of Saturday.

Hopelessness is today the common denominator of the countries where I lived and worked with Robert. Lebanon is on the verge of total collapse, with 78 per cent of its population living in poverty. Gaza has been cut off from the world by Israeli blockade since 2007. The West Bank remains under occupation and talk of Palestinian statehood has virtually ceased.

The hardliners have consolidated power in Tehran. Sanctions impoverish that country, and attempts to resurrect the Iran nuclear accord are going badly. Iraq is dominated by Iran and fragmented between Shia, Sunni and Kurds. Algerian youths despair more than ever. Bosnia, Kosovo, and Serbia languish in the waiting room of Europe. The 9/11 atrocities precipitated George W Bush’s “War on Terror” and two decades of extremist attacks.

The turn of the century was a cruel time, which coincided with the slow disintegration of our marriage. At the end of 2001, Robert was severely beaten by Afghan refugees in Pakistan. Daniel Pearl, the Wall Street Journal correspondent who with his wife, Mariane, nursed Robert’s wounds, was decapitated by al-Qaeda. Then Juan Carlos Gumucio, the Bolivian journalist and Robert’s compañero from the kidnapping days in Beirut, took his own life.

“What in God’s name, I have been asking myself, have we done to deserve this?” Robert wrote to me. He expressed nostalgia for what he called the “blithe and oddly happy years of innocence amid danger” when he and Juan Carlos were close.

I too felt nostalgic for our early years together, when we felt indestructible. Writing this book, I relived our progression from passionate youth to disabused middle age. I watched love flower and then falter. I realise now that it was not a tragedy. It was my life, and a good one. I remember everything that Robert taught me. Something remains.