“Does such a thing as ‘the fatal flaw’, that showy dark crack running down the middle of a life, exist outside literature? I used to think it didn’t. Now I think it does. And I think that mine is this: a morbid longing for the picturesque at all costs.” So opens Donna Tartt’s The Secret History. A […]Read more "Literary Wardrobe: The Secret History"
I needed, for months after he died, to remember our rooms— some lit by the trivial, others ample with an obscurity that comforted us: it hid our own darkness. So for months, duteous, I remembered: rooms where friends lingered, rooms with our beds, […]Read more "Literary Wardrobe: Rooms Remembered"
Madrigal felt the first feather-soft touch on her shoulder. She didn’t mistake it for Akiva’s touch, because his hands were at her waist. She looked down and saw that a gray-green hummingbird-moth had settled on her, one of many fluttering overhead, drawn to expansiveness of lantern light that must seem like a universe to them. […]Read more "Literary Wardrobe: Daughter of Smoke & Bone"
“Rock music needs very supportive bras, I note, holding onto my bosoms as I leap up and down, doggedly. This is something the music press had never mentioned. They have so little guidance for girls.” This is one of the few books that made me laugh out loud. I don’t just mean a smile or […]Read more "Literary Wardrobe: How to Build a Girl"
As you may have guessed, Donna Tartt is one of my favourite authors. Her second novel The Little Friend seems to always be forgotten – in interviews, in articles, in praise and blurbs. I suppose the cult following of The Secret History drowned out the release of this book, and then the frenzy surrounding The Goldfinch swept it to the side. […]Read more "Literary Wardrobe: The Little Friend"
“We felt the imprisonment of being a girl, the way it made your mind active and dreamy, and how you ended up knowing which colors went together. We knew that the girls were our twins, that we all existed in space like animals with identical skins, and that they knew everything about us though we […]Read more "Literary Wardrobe: The Virgin Suicides"
Hazel Lancaster suffers from Thyroid Cancer with tumors in her lungs. She wheels around an oxygen tank and on the regular, her lungs fill up with water. Hazel is drowning from the inside out. For the past few years, just like Hazel, “my lungs suck and being lungs”. I don’t have cancer (which I am […]Read more "Literary Wardrobe: The Fault in our Stars"