Books I want to remember
'Julio Cortazar is truly a sorcerer and the best of him is here, in these hilariously fraught and almost eerily affecting stories' Kevin Barry
A grieving family home becomes the site of a terrifying invasion. A frustrated love triangle, brought toge... See more
Bestiary | Julio Cortazar | London Review Bookshop
The Sun is a Compass — Caroline Van Hemert
because to some people it looks like a big empty space with nothing in it, but for us, it’s a really important place filled with wildlife and lovely, wonderful communities, and we wanted to protect them.’ She’d appealed to the critical difference between ‘space’ and ‘place’ – one a malleable territory largely Irreplaceable: The fight to save our wi
... See moreItalo Calvino • Numbers in the Dark
Dance Dance Dance by Haruki Murakami
dauntbooks.co.ukLauren Elkin • Florida by Lauren Groff review – rage and refusal as Earth reaps the whirlwind
Italo Calvino • Mr Palomar
Piranesi a book by Susanna Clarke
bookshop.orgI write down what I observe in my notebooks. I do this for two reasons. The first is that Writing inculcates habits of precision a carefulness. The second is to preserve whatever knowledge I possess for you, the Sixteenth Person.
I am guilty of bad practice. Only one system of numbering is needed. Two introduces confusion, doubt, uncertainty, doubt and muddle. (And is aesthetically unpleasing.)
In accordance with the first system I have named two years 2011 and 2012. This strikes me as deeply pedestrian what happened two thousand years ago which made me think that year a good starting point. According to the years names like 'The Year I named the Constellations' and 'The Year I counted and named the Dead each year a character of its own. This is the system I shall use going forward
mist comes right then, laying the salt air gently on the fruit, you have something that money can’t buy and chefs can’t create. A perfect, lightly salted blackberry. You can’t make them; it has to come with time and nature. They’re a gift, when you think summer’s over and the good stuff has all gone. They’re a gift.”’ Our path, our magnificent walk, was slipping away from him. Hold on to it, Moth, hold it tight; it’s ours, our bright light in the mess of our lives.