I'm reading Byatt's Possession, quite illicitly, alongside law. In it, two of the literature scholars discuss why they've come to study the poets Lamotte and Ash, respectively, and conclude that they are 'what survived our educations'. It has stuck with me. So far Austen has fallen to my education, Shakespeare might be gravely wounded (though I ( Read more... )

This, I suppose, is where I insert a really clever/witty/enlightening[/insert adjective] entry to introduce you to the ins and outs of this LJ. But there really is nothing to detail, except what you see on the first few pages. And the rest you're likely to pick up along the way - I'm fond of asides. I've spent the weekend screaming, cheering, ( Read more... )

I ordered Nabokov's The Original of Laura on Sunday, and can't wait to open it. (If someone doesn't yet know, I'm a 'Nabokovian', sworn on pain of death). He is, I've reasoned, my adult Roald Dahl: articulate, wry, dark. My brother wasn't as taken by him, but we both gleefully read the passage where George gets rid of his grandmother to ours. Hold ( Read more... )

There are 20 pages left of Coetzee's Summertime, and I'm somewhat underwhelmed. Continuing the fictional autobiography begun with Boyhood and Youth, it is the final installment. The series seems to be referred to as 'Scenes from Provincial Life'. Perfectly readable as a stand-alone piece, but I imagine it will make more sense if you have read the ( Read more... )

I am so, so broke. And I need to buy art. This art, and so much else. I need an apartment with blank walls, a blank canvas to fill with other people's ideas. Living alone, surrounded by someone's art.

On a literary note Youth is disappointing. I don't expect it to improve. Coetzee's too indulgent, some reviewer wrote; there might be something to ( Read more... )

My parents both read and enjoyed Stieg Larsson's Millenium series, and have urged me to read it for some time. I finally cracked them open during Easter, and finished the first one, Men Who Hate Women (Män som hatar kvinnor, in the original Swedish) in two days. They're very good crime novels, a genre I don't read other than as a guilty pleasure - ( Read more... )

I finished Coetzee's Elizabeth Costello a few days ago, and it has been bothering me ever since. It is part a collection of essays (written by Costello), part narrative of her travels by her son and herself, part resume of talks she has given. It ends rather confusingly with what I find the most interesting chapter, where Costello finds herself in ( Read more... )

Coetzee's Disgrace has been filmed by Steve Jacobs, and is screened in Norway now. With Malkovich as Lurie, the leading role. Malkovich as Lurie! I'm doing a very fangirly squee. This appears to be a good review, at least they've grasped much of the book.

I said I'd spend my time reading, but it's slow going at the moment. The Life and Times of Michael K, by Coetzee - dubbed "the inpronounsable", by grandmother; we're both loath to use a name we can't pronounce properly - is a slow read. Another naive narrator, a type that doesn't particularly interest me. As a review on amazon said, the novel lacks ( Read more... )

I'm spamming friends pages as procrastination. Does it help if I'm slightly sorry?

I finished Coetzee's Diary of a Bad Year a week or so ago. It is primarily interesting for its somewhat experimental qualities: the three-way narrative. A collection of essays, or "opinions", the writer of these and his secretary. The story is not particularly well- ( Read more... )