The shifting and confused gusts of memory

In my previous post about Swann’s Way, I discussed it as a novel about humans being defined almost solely by unhealthy obsessions. This is a rather grim view of things tempered only, perhaps, by the fact that this hasn’t been my experience of life after 21-ish. I suppose I should also talk about remembrance, memory,…

Her axiomatic and seraphic super-humanity

As I mentioned in a previous post, I’ve found Marcel Proust’s Swann’s Way to be an extremely delightful but much too filling dish; I cleansed my palate with the fun and silly, if very slightly disappointing, Kraken, and then dove back in. I finished Swann’s Way last night after a couple of days of sweaty-browed…

Surviving Farch

Friends, it’s almost here–the longest, cruellest month of the year: Farch. (Sorry, Eliot, it’s not April. April is when we remember that we once didn’t loathe existence as either a theory or a practice.) Farch: known more popularly as the nigh endless period of time spanning February 1st to March 31st. You know what I’m…