At the beginning of February this year, I escorted my grandma back to her small, but comfortable flat in a quiet village somewhere in the North of England. She was a little wobbly in the dark, held on to my arm strongly and said that it was good of me to have walked her back. I replied it was no problem, knowing that this might be the last time I would see her before I went back to France. My grandma turned 90 a couple of weeks later.
Another book I probably should have read earlier in my life, as it would appear I am trying to do at the moment. It is a race between the past and the future, with the circus maximus being the present: read the books I bought in the past in order to make me what I should have been, while trying to keep an eye on future releases that will make what I should be. Is that the kernel of our very existence?
Who here has seen it? Who could recognise it? Who dare mention it? Headache, sore throat, loss of taste: It looks ‘foreign’ to me.
A post about four books (Lolita, Daodeijing, The Rhetoric of Fiction, Tender is the Night) that have shaped my approach to writing, novels, stories and creative writing in the beginning of the year.
Book reviews (kind of), no spoilers. WRITINGWRITERWRITTENMrs DallowayVirginia Woolf1925Contes de la BécasseGuy de Maupassant1883Poems selected by Ted HughsEmily Dickinson1859-1885Middlemarch George Eliot1870-71Books I read in December 2020 Mrs Dalloway “Rigid, the skeleton of habit alone upholds the human frame” Virginia Woolf The constant tunnelling pre-war to Bourton and the happiness that was makes me think of my … Continue reading Middlemarch Moments