A collection of thoughts after re-reading Too Much and Not the Mood (transcribed from marginalia): Writing is a return. The luxury of small moments at home. Sumptuous perfumed moments of language. Prose over plot. Always. Yet, there’s sisterhood to be found in friendship. A certain kind of love for my friends: awe and obsession and […]Read more "Transcribed from Marginalia: Too Much and Not the Mood"
(from a conversation with students) New Kanye. Ye. Not ye, as in ‘come all ye faithful’, but Ye as in Kanye. Kan-yay. But Yeezy. It’s pronounced Yee-zee, not Yay-zee they said. Yes, but that’s with the extra ‘e’. And since when has Kanye cared about phonetics? He rhymes live with serious, them with apartment, and cousins with dumb. Kanye even […]Read more "Everything under ‘Everything Under’"
I finished rereading A.S. Byatt’s The Children’s Book. Last time I read it I wrote myself a hangover cure: visit the V&A museum, take up pottery, frolic in the English countryside, read Peter Pan, drink tea, sleep. So, behold, a collection of cures for that book that made you suffer: the best of the reading remedies […]Read more "Reading Remedies (Part I)"
Summer is upon us. And with it comes long days reading in the sun. A week ago I spent one said day with Madeline Miller’s newest novel Circe, a retelling of The Odyssey’s witch of Aeaea. The new hardback bent and warped in the heat, and my damp hands made imprints on the pages – puckered them like […]Read more "Mythology in the Modern Age"
As I was leaving work yesterday, I bumped into a friend. The sun was setting ahead of me so I couldn’t see who had called my name, but as I wheeled my bike closer, there she was, a manifestation out of the syrupy sunshine. She had just gotten off the bus, and had a book […]Read more "On Place and Space in Literature"
A collection of thoughts after re-reading The Goldfinch (transcribed from marginalia): Theo’s mother dies on April 10th. April 10th is the 100th day of the year. I think Donna Tartt hides herself in her male characters. “I was very taken with the idea that a person might notice in passing some bewitching stranger and remember […]Read more "Transcribed from Marginalia: The Goldfinch"
January was spent grief-stricken from the death of my Grandfather. The rest of my family amassed on the other side of the world to celebrate his life; every morning was peppered with updates from my siblings, parents, cousins, aunts, and uncles. I wanted to be home with them. But I wasn’t. I was at work. […]Read more "My Year (in books)"