If you're new here, why not subscribe to our email updates or follow us on Facebook? You can also add us to your Google Reader. Thanks for visiting! A week or so ago, I read with distinct amusement the commentary of two Twitter friends who were attending the Malcolm Gladwell lecture at Book Expo America. Each was live tweeting the event, and in verbose, manic...
On Sisyphus, Camus, knowledge and Chaim Potoks In The Beginning
Of late it seems that I am being haunted by intertextuality. Each book that I pick up seems to slot into the vast Connect Four board of hermeneutics that is my reading life, and with everything I read, I find my to-read list growing ever broader and ever deeper. I seem to be at a stage in my reading where so many unknown unknowns are swiftly becoming known...
Thoughts on Love Among the Chickens by PG Wodehouse
Love Among the Chickens is my first foray into the work of Wodehouse; and as a fairly early work, its one of Wodehouses first forays into Wodehouse as well. A deliciously written farcical novel, it brings together the seemingly dissimilar worlds of writing and chicken farming'which prove to have a lot more in common than one might first imagine,...
Book Review: A Change for the Better by Susan Hill
I picked up Susan Hills'A Change for the Better from the shelves of the Little Library, a literary free-for-all thanks to which Ive stumbled across all manner of elderly, fusty little books. The sorts of books that are faded to a jaundiced hue, their pages seeking respite from the glue of their bindings, their text cramped and tiny, set, in...
Big Ray by Michael Kimball: A personal response
My father is a small man. He is small in stature. He is small in emotions. And he is also small in achievement. My fathers greatest achievement is the PhD he obtained just after I was born. When I turned eighteen, he gave me a copy of his PhD. When I turned twenty-one, he asked when I would be obtaining a PhD of my own. My father is a scientist....
Review: Lifesaving for Beginners by Ciara Geraghty
My primary school was a tiny place, one so small that it had no play area to speak of. It did, however, look on to a vast park that wasand still isa favourite landing place for the citys hot air balloons. If Im up early enough, I often see them scudding along overhead before sinking into slumber in the park. But as much as I...