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Brief Takes: Edogawa Rampo & Clarice Lispector
Perhaps my worst trait is impatience. Itβs not charming and it does not feel like it comes with ambition or nerves, but the clawing sort, the kind that makes me incapable of restraint in public spaces. I was in East Bay Booksellers, standing somewhere between the staff picks and the poetry shelf, when I realized β read more
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Book Report: Six Memos for the Next Millennium, Italo Calvino
Most of the books Iβm reading now are books I once left behindβhalf-digested, spine-cracked, pages dog-eared with a promise I didnβt keep. Iβm back to them not out of shame but out of curiosity about the version of myself that stopped. Why did I pause? Did I forget how to love stories? Was I just β read more
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Book Report: The Lover, Marguerite Duras
I read two books in a day. No big deal. I used to do that often. It was a necessary skill, once. I had been a literature major, and reading quickly and absorbingly was not just encouraged but required. At that time, I could finish a novel in a few hours, annotate it, and argue β read more
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Book Report: Vintage Joan Didion
In the interest of maintaining fidelity to my own stated intent, that I would attempt to live a life less mediated by the gloss of screens and notifications, I reached, almost ceremoniously, for my old Vintage edition of Joan Didion. A collection of essays, varied in subject and geography, lay within. Each essay presented itself β read more
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Book Report: Open Throat, Henry Hoke
It is June, and I have read one new book. This statement is not made in shame, but with a kind of clarity. One spends so much time among fragmentsβheadlines, feeds, flickers of textβthat the act of reading a whole book, from beginning to end, becomes almost mythic in scale. I hadnβt read a book β read more
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