When it came to discussing Air by Christian Kracht, my book group didn’t do much discussing. Rather, it was an hour of questions and speculation –
Sample Saturday is when I wade through the eleventy billion samples I have downloaded on my Kindle. I’m slowly chipping away and deciding whether it’s buy or bye. Continue reading
I read Discontent by Beatriz Serrano (translated by Mara Faye Lethem) almost two months ago (yes, catching up on reviews, so I’ll keep this brief). Anyway, the point is that when anyone asks, “Have you read anything good lately?”, this is the book I suggest. I’m not constantly thinking about it, yet it’s the book that immediately comes to mind. Because it’s funny, it’s relatable, it’s well written and it’s also sad (or perhaps poignant) in an unexpected way. Continue reading
01. It’s Melbourne International Comedy Festival time. Have been to a couple of shows: Continue reading
Sample Saturday is when I wade through the eleventy billion samples I have downloaded on my Kindle. I’m slowly chipping away and deciding whether it’s buy or bye.
This week, all three books (and all are novellas) were mentioned in this interview with author Austin Duffy (whose book, The Night Interns, I enjoyed). Continue reading
Misinterpretation by Ledia Xhoga Continue reading
It’s been a while since I’ve had a reading experience as visceral as what I had when I read Olga Ravn’s The Wax Child. Continue reading
In a recent clinical supervision session at work, we were talking about ‘high-functioning freeze‘. I happened to be reading Girl, 1983 by Linn Ullmann at the time, and I immediately thought of the protagonist.
What happened to the protagonist – and if this book was called Girl, 2025, we would say that she had been sexually assaulted – unfolds in a series of vignettes. A sixteen-year-old girl is in Paris in 1983, alone, on a modelling assignment with a notable photographer, known only as ‘K’. On her first day in the city, she gets lost in the labyrinth of streets and can’t remember where her hotel is. In desperation, she goes to K’s studio, and the day turns into evening and then the next morning. There’s alcohol, cocaine and nightclubs involved.
If K can’t remember me – the sixteen-year-old girl who turned up on his doorstep one night – is everything that happened between us (and which I promised not to tell anyone) still our secret? Or is it only mine? Continue reading
Yes, it’s ridiculous that I still have reviews for Novellas in November outstanding… Continue reading
All year I show restraint and then November happens – Nonfiction November, Novellas in November, and German Literature Month – it usually means my TBR stack grows, although this year I have been a little more restrained. Continue reading