One of the books which inspired The Grand Budapest Hotel. I just began it this morning for the third time in as many years.
Not since Kazuo Ishiguro’s Never Let Me Go has a work of modern fiction broken my heart so meticulously.
A work of juvenilia, really, but I am moving on to Stoner next. I haven’t read a great American novel in some time.
Since quitting social media, I’ve had all this time to read. Last week, I finished The Talented Mr Ripley. Patricia Highsmith writes very fine sentences, good paragraphs, but is not much for chapters. Nonetheless, her capacity to identify the micro-incentives, micro-disappointments, and micro-delusions which happen at a nearly imperceptible level in the human heart wasContinue reading “All This Time”
It often happens that a single ambient record overtakes my interest for a whole season. Presently, I cannot get enough of Roger Eno’s Voices (1985).