A liquid pane touched on all sides,

Between by Rosmarie Waldrop I´m not quite at home on either side of the Atlantic I´m not irritated the fish kept me a home makes you forget unaware where you are unless you think you´d like to be some place I can´t think I´d like to be some other place places are much the same…

Rosmarie Waldrop

Rosmarie Waldrop was born in Kitzingen, Germany, in 1935. She emigrated to the United States in 1958. She is a poet, novelist, essayist and co-editor of Burning Deck Press. She studied literature, art history and musicology at the University of Würzburg and later at the University of Freiburg and the University of Aix-Marseille. After emigrating…

From now on I shall only wear white,

Dear Nuala, Sometimes I feel that your novel Miss Emily (2015) is haunted by the ghost of something – a bird? – it distractedly let slip out of its realm of possibilities. It centers around the relationship between the 19th-century American poet Emily Dickinson and a fictional Irish housemaid named Ada Concannon. The story is set…

Nuala O’Connor

Nuala O’Connor (Nuala Ní Chonchúir, born 14 January 1970) is an Irish writer and poet. She has a Bachelor in Irish from Trinity College Dublin and a Masters in Translation Studies from Dublin City University. She has worked as translator, bookseller and librarian, and now teaches creative writing. Her poetry and fiction were published in the Wales Arts…

his plunging spirit had got stuck in the glue of convention and hypocrisy

Dear Vita, You begin your novel The Edwardians (1930) with a very curious note: “No character in this book is wholly fictitious.”  It gives us a hint to what the book will taste like: melancholic and ambiguous, both an imaginative expansion upon the life you knew well and a deep immersion on its contradictions. The…

The Classics Spin #15!

Hello, lovely readers! It’s time for another Classics Club Spin! Participants post a list of 20 books on their Classics Club list. On Friday morning (March, 10th), a random number will be selected by the Club. The challenge is to read whatever book falls under that number on your Spin List, by May 1st, 2017. Here…

I am an ocean of waiting

Ebb by M. Vasalis I withdraw and wait. This is the time that won’t go amiss: Every minute turns itself into future. I am an ocean of waiting, enveloped in a water film by the instant. Drawing ebb of the mind, Which pulls the minutes and, deep in its darkness, prepares the high tide. There…

M. Vasalis

M. Vasalis (pseudonym of Margaretha Droogleever Fortuyn-Leenmans, 13 February 1909– 16 October 1998) was a Dutch poet and psychiatrist. She studied medicine and anthropology at Leiden University. Poems Ebb (tr. Juliana Brina) Books 1940 – Onweer, in Drie Novellen, met J. Campert en E. Eewijck 1940 – Parken en woestijnen 1945 – Fragmenten uit een journaal,…

Reading Ireland Month

Hello, lovely readers! In March, Cathy and Niall are hosting Reading Ireland Month (#Begorrathon17, #readireland17), to celebrate  all things Irish: “It won’t be any fun without you, so grab our pin and add the link to your blog posts at the linky below. If you need any inspiration, you can check out my list of 100 Irish Novels,…

Shut the noise out with your own noise

Dear Patricia, WHILE READING your novel Deep Water (1957), I felt as if you had gradually thrust us into the muddy waters of your protagonist’s troubled mind. The book is narrated in third person through the perspective of Vic Van Allen, an inhibited man in his late thirties, who runs a small press in the…

Patricia Highsmith

Patricia Highsmith (born Mary Patricia Plangman, January 19, 1921 – February 4, 1995) was an American writer. Highsmith attended Julia Richman High School in New York City, and published her first stories in the school’s magazine. In 1938, she began her studies at Barnard College, where she studied English composition, playwriting, and the short story,…

And it could have been any street in the city

Dear Ann, How can one write a naturalist novel and still convey strong symbolic effect? I don’t know the answer, but I think you achieved that. The Street (1946) in your first novel is both a concrete space and a distorting mirror for a perverse version of the American Dream, a thin surface impossible to…