Review – Spaceman Blues

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and like poetry, stories that focus on style over substance run the risk of failing to connect.

Spaceman Blues: a love song, by Brian Francis Slattery. 219 pages, published 2007.

Review – the Code of the Woosters

Shades of Jane Austen, with regards to the social set and a certain wryness of wit, but set some 100 years later and with a much lighter tone. This is not the first time I have attempted Wodehouse, but it is the first time I have been all-in on the experience.
The Code of the Woosters, by P.G. Wodehouse. 286 pages, originally published 1939.

Whatever That Looks Like

Even in the middle of an emergency, and especially in the middle of a drawn-out slow-rolling emergency, it is incredibly important to interact with one’s support network in ways that bear no relation to that emergency. That reminder of what “normal” is supposed to look like is one of the keys to getting back to that state of normality. Someday.

Review – Death in Brittany & Murder on Britanny Shores

Originally published in 2012, translated to English in 2014, Death in Brittany is the first novel of Commissaire Dupin. The author writes these stories pseudonymonously and is said to split his time between Germany and Brittany, but is obviously deeply familiar with Brittany.
Death in Brittany, by “Jean-Luc Bannalec”; 318 pages; published 2012, trans. Sorcha McDonagh 2014
Murder on Brittany Shores; 380 pages; published 2013, trans. Sorcha McDonagh 2016

Review – Jagannath

Jagannath is a collection of short stories by a Swedish writer, drawing on elements of pre-Christian and even pre-Norse mythology to turn modern incidents on their ear.
Jaganath, by Karin Tidbeck; 155 pages, published 2012

Waiting for Winter

Every morning I wake, and I ask myself, “What do you desire?”
And I am unable to provide an answer to myself.
And then again, after lunch, my belly full, I ask myself, “What do you desire?”
And again I am unable to provide an answer.
One last time, before sleep claims me, I ask, “What do you desire?”
And again, I am unable to answer.
What is it that so haunts this dusty brain that it cannot answer a question as simple as that?

thinkin’ ’bout god

What’s on my mind, you ask? Well, since you ask….

Proselytizing religious folks. Super-judgy religious types. You want to tell me how to worship? You want to prescribe the rituals and words, the intentions and manners? You want to control how I express my relationship with god?

Why would you want that? Is it the case that you don’t trust your all-knowing, all-powerful god to KNOW effortlessly what is in my heart and in my mind? You fear that I’m doing it all wrong and god won’t know?

You don’t trust the power of god?

You. Don’t trust god?

You?

You, sad little mortal that you are. Dare to pass judgement on how god handles his own affairs.

I won’t go into any further details of the implications of this line of reasoning. If you can’t figure it out, I won’t be able to dumb it down enough for you.

But all the rest of you out there, I wish you could experience the day you deserve. You probably won’t, but I sincerely wish you could.

The End of the City of Lights

Augury of Miso en Place

They came first for Chef, who named his dishes by the wrong names.

They came for him in the night before the Feastday of Saint Martina of Rome, when they thought no one could be watching.  They interrupted his preparations and ignored his protestations.  Their passing left an orange stain in the air, a smear of light that did not dissipate.