The cover depicts a still life of fruit, a Flemish master maybe, where desire meets decay and ripe meets rot. A still life of how feminine sexuality is seen and experienced in the world ― all at once it’s fresh and open, ready to devour and discuss and dissect, but in a moment it can […]Read more "Forbidden Fruit"
January was dark. In January I spent the days looking for the light and counting the clock ticking a minute more of daylight for days on end. In January Olivia and I read Her Body and Other Parties, pulling it apart thread by thread on her bedroom floor. We marvelled at her terrifying articulation of femininity and […]Read more "My Year (in books)"
I saw Call Me By Your Name twice. Once, after work in a near empty cinema with a bag of caramel popcorn and no knowledge of what I was about to see. I cycled home in the rain, buoyed by the heady images of an Italian summer: arts and classics and introspection and lust and swimming and […]Read more "Books to read after watching Call Me By Your Name"
Wakefulness, darkness that comes with the inability to sleep, “the silent realms” (as Virginia Woolf calls it). Insomnia. A romp through literature, culture, and her own bed, Marina Benjamin’s memoir Insomnia found me in the deep hours of the night, plagued by the pursuit of sleep. Not chronic insomnia, that awful mistress that so many suffer from, […]Read more "The Silent Realms"
It’s the flash and glare, the speckle, the flare of colour refracted through the camera lens that simultaneously blinds and binds me. The haze of a dawn, with the sky shot through; the shadow and the shade, the soft movement of time tapped out across a blank wall. I watch and wait for it to […]Read more "Stacks that Shine (or, Illuminating Literature)"
A new Murakami is a strange and wonderful thing. A tome, destined to be read by millions and perfectly formed as a material object – bound in circles, that seemingly constant shape that seems to run throughout his work, and echoed across dust covers and paperbacks alike. How does one begin when writing about the […]Read more "Killing Commendatore"
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. Normal […]Read more "Reading Remedies (Part IV)"
Back to work after six long weeks of doing nothing but reading – I would laze in bed and emerge only when I’d turned the final page. Or I took my coffee into the patch of morning sun and shift my body, hot and sleepy, across the room as it rose and turned into a […]Read more "Summer Reading (a reflection of sorts)"
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. My […]Read more "Reading Remedies (Part III)"
We all write our own mythologies – the mythology of millennials, of instagram, of ourselves. I often say that my online life is a careful curation. I choose what to post. I only show the actions and write the captions that I wish others to see. I am in control. This online life isn’t real, […]Read more "Modern Mythologies"