<$BlogRSDUrl$>
lost and found at tiny thing
|
larkin: counting
Thinking in terms of one
Is easily done --
One room, one bed, one chair,
One person there,
Makes perfect sense; one set
Of wishes can be met,
One coffin filled.
But counting up to two
Is harder to do;
For one must be denied
Before it's tried.
mr orwell writes
The inflated style is itself a kind of euphemism. A mass of Latin words falls upon the facts like soft snow, blurring the outlines and covering up all the details. The great enemy of clear language is insincerity. When there is a gap between one's real and one's declared aims, one turns as it were instinctively to long words and exhausted idioms, like a cuttlefish squirting out ink.
Politics and the English Language - find your own link :)
meg wolitzer writes
You stayed around your children as long as you could, inhaling the ambient gold shavings of their childhood, and at the last minute you tried to see them off into life and hoped that the little piece of time you'd given them was enough to prevent them from one day feeling lonely and afraid and hopeless. You wouldn't know the outcome for a long time.
in the ten year nap, review here
hanif kureishi says
Fame and a changing Britain have dulled the effects, but, he says, suddenly furious, "I had a lot of racism last fucking week. I'm not used to it any more. I was in Germany. I was incandescent. All the journalists referred to me as an immigrant writer. They'd go, 'As an immigrant writer, are you beginning to feel a bit more settled now in England?' Stuff like that . . . And also - 'The children, are they between two cultures, how do they feel?' There are no more English boys than my sons."
Racism made him a frightened, hostile child, and it made him a writer; the incidents in Germany were "like a memory of a trauma. You remember what other people's words do to you. So if someone calls you an immigrant, you think, oh, it's like 1966. Other people's words define, exclude and generally demean you. It made me remember why I wanted to write - to put my side."
interview in the guardian
ambulance chasing
We've all looked around the flat, it's not nosiness - we are all trying to work out why someone so young would suddenly drop dead. We are looking for a reason, or just a reason why it couldn't be us.
random acts of reality
|
|
