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Reading 21: Three windows
I’ve loved the views from many windows throughout my life, but there are a few that have fixed themselves in my memory and crystallised as if what they contained was itself an expression of that particular period in my life. That these windows have come to make a lasting impact on me did not come…
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Reading 20: Winter interlude
The wind was so strong yesterday that I thought the bus I was in might tip over. Rain was clattering against the windows, and I was alone on the top deck. Saturday morning. All night the storm had been loud, rattling every door and hinge in the flat so that it sounded like banging. I…
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Reading 11: On ‘a boy’s world’
It’s weird how reading about the suffering of others can make you feel guilty, as if your escaping of certain forms of hardship makes you complicit in the suffering you avoided. These were the kinds of thoughts I had when I was reading Paris Lees’s excellent memoir, What It Feels Like For A Girl, a…
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