Tuesday, 20 November 2018
Louis MacNeice & W. H. Auden - "Letters from Iceland"
Finally started reading it. Some parts are fun, recognizable. Others long and dreary. I'm not too much fan of the poetry in here.
Julian Barnes - "Pulse"
Amazing short stories. Some of the chapters are dinner party discussions and are simply amazing.
TA few minutes later, the Twin Otter took off straight out across Orosay and the open sea. There was no farewell view of the island before that world below was shut out. In the enveloping cloud, he thought about marriage lines and buttons; about razor clams and island sex; about missing bullocks and fulmars being turned into oil; and then, finally, the tears came. Calum had known he would not be coming back. But the tears were not for that, or for himself, or even for her, for their memories. They were tears for his own stupidigty. His presumption too.
He had thought he could recapture, and begin to say farewell. He had thought that grief might be assuaged, or if not assuaged, at least speeded up, hurried on its way a little, by going back to a place where they had been happy. But he was not in charge of grief. Grief was in charge of him. And in the months and years ahead, he expected grief to teach him many other things as well. This was just the first of them.
The city of Carcassonne looks solid and enduring, but what we admire is mostly nineteenth-cenutry reconstruction. Forget the hazard of 'whetehr it will last', and whether longevity is in any case a virtue, a reward, an accommodation or another piece of luck.
TA few minutes later, the Twin Otter took off straight out across Orosay and the open sea. There was no farewell view of the island before that world below was shut out. In the enveloping cloud, he thought about marriage lines and buttons; about razor clams and island sex; about missing bullocks and fulmars being turned into oil; and then, finally, the tears came. Calum had known he would not be coming back. But the tears were not for that, or for himself, or even for her, for their memories. They were tears for his own stupidigty. His presumption too.
He had thought he could recapture, and begin to say farewell. He had thought that grief might be assuaged, or if not assuaged, at least speeded up, hurried on its way a little, by going back to a place where they had been happy. But he was not in charge of grief. Grief was in charge of him. And in the months and years ahead, he expected grief to teach him many other things as well. This was just the first of them.
The city of Carcassonne looks solid and enduring, but what we admire is mostly nineteenth-cenutry reconstruction. Forget the hazard of 'whetehr it will last', and whether longevity is in any case a virtue, a reward, an accommodation or another piece of luck.
Monday, 19 November 2018
Jeff Vandermeer - "Southern Reach Trilogy"
Three books, "Annihilation", "Authority" and "Acceptance"
Strange books about "Area X" where modern equipment doesn't work and the air is pristine. Different search parties are sent in, covered by Annihilation. Authority describes the Southern Reach, the research station and its political and power games, and finally Acceptance is an amalgamation of these, of past and current, of the Area growing. Never is everything completely explained, but enough so, but you'll have to read up to and including book 3 to figure things sorta out.
Strange books about "Area X" where modern equipment doesn't work and the air is pristine. Different search parties are sent in, covered by Annihilation. Authority describes the Southern Reach, the research station and its political and power games, and finally Acceptance is an amalgamation of these, of past and current, of the Area growing. Never is everything completely explained, but enough so, but you'll have to read up to and including book 3 to figure things sorta out.
Sjón - "Moonstone - the boy who never was"
A story spanning a few days in Reykjavík during the eruption of the Katla volcano and the end of the Great War. Main character, "moonstone", a slurring of his real name, is a teenage male prostitute obsessed by a local girl onto whom he has projected a film star. Interestingly written, fast read. The dreamlike parts a bit confusing.
The streets yawn, empty of people, except for glimpses here and there of the odd shadowy figure out and about. These are the old women, bundled up in black clothes, wearing shawl upon shawl to keep out the chll. They have given room to so many ailments in their day that the scourge now making a meal of their descendants can find no morsel worth having on their worn-out old bones.
He is a shadow that passes from man to man, and no one is complete until he has cast him.
The streets yawn, empty of people, except for glimpses here and there of the odd shadowy figure out and about. These are the old women, bundled up in black clothes, wearing shawl upon shawl to keep out the chll. They have given room to so many ailments in their day that the scourge now making a meal of their descendants can find no morsel worth having on their worn-out old bones.
He is a shadow that passes from man to man, and no one is complete until he has cast him.
the Death of Stalin
Not as funny as the trailer suggested. Was ok. Big cast, big names, but ultimately nothing crazy, in contrast to what rottentomatoes said.
Haunting of Hill House
Nice series where the old horror of Shirley Jackson's story is nicely interwoven with a struggling family's mental issues.
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