The book of debts

I blame the first chrysanthemum she gave me in a whisper: I should have given you this flower a long time ago. And I blame the stars all around, smelling of freshly-cut grass, the first greens sprouting on the branches. Yes, Spring is to be blamed, breaking through the heavy blanket of cold, screaming with…

Backpack Through Europe Summer Reading Challenge | 2018

Hi, folks! Summer has come with full force around here. I am back from a short trip to the Alps, but my spirit remains restless. Is there a better way to appease one’s unrequited Wanderlust than to travel through books? That’s why I’ve just signed up for Backpack Through Europe Summer Reading Challenge (BTE), hosted…

My Reading Spreadsheet & current stats | 2018

Hi, folks! As promised, I explain here how I use my reading spreadsheet. Sorry in advance for the poor audio quality and for the lenghty video – I did not antecipate that I would have so much to talk about! NOTES: Timestamps Main table: 1:36  Purchases: 7:30 Stats: 9:45  Charts: 18:52 Projects: 25:07 Reference Tables: 33:22 Inspiration Sarah…

Obscure titles on my TBR | 2018

Hi, folks! I’ve been in the mood for a TAG lately. This one was created by Shawn, and it consists in selecting the ten most obscure books on your TBR, by sorting your corresponding shelf on Goodreads according to number of ratings and popularity. It was a funny exercise: I don’t even remember adding to my…

Howling out of beauty

My awkward attempt at translating the lyrics: “Beautiful Oh well, see, the lambs are still slurping from their freshly shaven mothers And see how the young swans swim down in the soft ditch And how the balmy wind blows the clouds into recently aired skies Can a thing be more beautiful than its beauty? Can…

Maarten van Roozendaal

Maarten van Roozendaal (3 mei 1962 – 1 juli 2013), was a Dutch singer-songwriter. Van Roozendaal was born into a family of six in the small town of Heiloo, and got involved with music from early childhood on. After a troubled puberty, and a rebellious adolescence among the anarchist scene in Amsterdam, he finally started…

There was always a wind blowing

Dear Monica, Do you know this feeling of slowly being enveloped by coldness? Like at the end of a sunny day: with the faint memory of the sun on our skin, we are caught unawares by the first wind. That’s more or less how your novel The Winds of Heaven (1955) feels like: as an…

The wind was a green ghost

“Feel Me “Feel me to do right,” our father said on his deathbed. We did not quite know—in fact, not at all—what he meant. His last whisper was spent as through a slot in a wall. He left us a key, but how did it fit? “Feel me to do right.” Did it mean that,…

May Swenson

May Swenson (Anna Thilda May “May” Swenson, 28 May 1913 – 4 December 1989) was an American writer. Born in the United States to Swedish immigrant parents, she grew up in a Mormon household, and English was her second language. She earned a bachelor’s degree from Utah State University. From 1959 to 1966, she worked as manuscript reviewer at New Directions Press. She taught poetry…