I haven’t written in some time. Partly because I’m lazy, and partly because I feel like time breeds high expectations. That’s why Flaubert was actually doing himself and injustice by agonising over every line—time was a-ticking and a-wasting. What could I possibly write about to meet these high—nay—impossible expectations? Well, I don’t actually know, and… Continue reading To Commute or Not To Commute
Lydia Davis’ translation of Madame Bovary was deemed the most ‘scandalous’ novel of all time by Playboy. Yes, you read that right. From publication, it titillated the sexually deprived and outraged “civilized” society, so much so that Flaubert was taken to court for obscenity. Nothing like a book about attraction, sex, and infidelity to get… Continue reading Madame Bovary–Sympathetic or Pathetic?
I sat in the grounds around Norwich Castle on a bench overlooking the city. The sun was shining, the sky clear. All around me, life was moving. And I felt elated. It’s rare that we take time to appreciate beauty. It’s rare that we see it in the every day at all. But in that… Continue reading Appreciation
There are two types of Divergent fan – the angry and the blind. Don’t get me wrong, Divergent was glorious. Given the choice between it and my copy of Wuthering Heights, both dangled over an open fire in a very Fahrenheit-esque manner, I think I would let Heathcliff burn before Four. This doesn’t seem to say much;… Continue reading Cat is Me, Roth is Human, Allegiant is Bathwater
Call me Victor and wait patiently for lightening because today we’re sewing a patchwork quilt of body parts and personality traits – metaphorically of course. Living, breathing human beings are renowned for their imperfection, and even the idealist must accept that one cannot be good at everything. Alas, this is true even for fiction, even… Continue reading Recipe for a Frankenboyf
Over the Christmas break I got those emails – any student regardless of course will know the ones. Those emails that detail the ins and outs of the modules to come, and, accompanied by trepidation and muted terror (for sanity and bank balance) the reading list. Initially, Marcel Proust’s Swann’s Way wasn’t intimidating, it was one novel (two translations)… Continue reading Pretending to be Proust
People often mention that they know I’m a Literature student before I tell them – and I often wonder, is that a compliment or an insult? I can never tell whether it’s my eclectic fashion sense or my personal musty book and tea fragrance that’s causing them to draw this conclusion. Or is it my… Continue reading Literature Student Safari