If I have one winter reading recommendation – this is it. A quiet, enchanting, and deeply atmospheric story set in the cold, medieval Russian wilderness.
I know, I know, it’s not winter yet (thank goodness), but I do wish it was when I read this book. I would have loved to layer on wool socks and sweaters, and cozy up under the covers for a read like this. That’s the first thing I’ll say about this book: it’s chilly. Arden’s prose and imagery is so compelling that you can feel the cold while reading. Continue reading
The brain is locked in total darkness, of course, children, says the voice. It floats in a clear liquid inside the skull, never in the light. And yet the world it constructs in the mind is full of light. It brims with color and movement. So how, children, does the brain, which lives without a spark of light, build for us a world full of light?
Well, I’ll be damned. This book was perfect. Utter perfection. And I knew it was a going to be from the first 15 pages. Not that I was particularly surprised considering it won the Pulizter Prize for Fiction in 2015. Continue reading
Prompt: Write about two people seeing each other for the first time.
It’s winter and I’m standing on the bus during morning rush hour. The floor is slick with melted snow and it smells like wet dog. I swear I can hear the bus driver laughing maliciously as he tries to throw early morning commuters on their asses. Gas. Break. Gas. Break. I cling for dear life to the strap above my head and I’m sweating buckets inside my thick polyester coat. I don’t want to risk taking it off lest I punch the annoyed-looking women beside me or elbow the poor girl pressed up against my armpit. Continue reading
So I read this article, published by The New York Times Book Review a couple weeks back, and I’m still mulling it over. It discusses an extremely relevant (and touchy) subject: where do you draw the line between artistic license and cultural theft? The article is well-written and provides the opinions of two writers, Rivka Galchen and Anna Holmes. Here are my thoughts on the subject. Continue reading
There had never been a death so foretold.
So this was my first Gabo book and I’m stumped. I’m not quite sure what to make of this strange, haunting little book. I don’t often enjoy reading stories that you can find on Sparknotes. They’re just too… academic for me? Does that sound bad? I’m not a fan of literary ambiguity…
It was intriguing and thought-provoking, but not what I’d call an enjoyable read. It’s only 120 pages long, but took me almost two weeks to finish… Continue reading
I thought I’d start writing about some of my random bookish musings, hope you enjoy:
I’m always wondering why we humans are so attracted to storytelling.
Why do we tell stories? Why do we take the time out of our own lives to invest in lives of others, fictional or otherwise? Is it a natural curiosity or an escape? Is it humanity’s propensity to empathize and seek connection? To live a thousand lives in one lifetime? Perhaps the answer is a summation of all these things. Continue reading
I have no words that will adequately describe how this book made me feel – is still making me feel. It’s the third book to ever make me cry (during my early morning commute on a busy Toronto subway no less). This book was… this book was… was… see? I’m at a loss for words. Continue reading