The Secret Life of Cows, by Rosamund Young
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me: I hate that I can never focus on books or reading, I need to go to a cabin in the woods with a stack and not be disturbed until I finish, there’s nothing like the feel of a paper book in your hands and the smell of an old, well-loved favorite and even the chunks that fall out bc you’ve read it over a hundred times and the binding is fragile books
me when the Wi-Fi goes out: böōōkš ?? never heard of her
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Finished rereading the hobbit (shown here with my sting bookmark) and I love this book so much; it feels like coming home.
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Some quotes of my beloved بابر.
أفضل رواية أبدأ بها العام.
بابر - إبراهيم أحمد عيسى.
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this was soooooo stupid GOOD. my God
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like if they ever did a super-verse i hope they add the fact that krypton is destined to always implode and that clark is destined to always be a survivor
like canon events mean more to superman because they're real to him
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Just Finished: I’m Glad My Mom Died by Jennette McCurdy
Why do we romanticize the dead? Why can't we be honest about them? Especially moms. They're the most romanticized of anyone.
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Even though I knew how Derry Girls ended months ago (couldn’t resist the tag when the new eps aired) I still got emotional watching the final episodes. Would love to know how they’re doing in 2022.
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I’ve just finished reading Crime and Punishment so I’m just going to write a few of my thoughts about it here while it’s fresh.
It reminded me a lot of Keep the Aspidistras Flying by George Orwell; had the same sense of doom and hopelessness pervading it; scenes of poverty and how that beats a person down; the same type of (frankly) irritating protag who seems incapable of doing a thing to improve his own situation even though they’re surrounded by opportunities and people trying to help/support them; though Raskolnikov is significantly less stable. They end on a really similar note, too.
It has a similar, dense style to English lit from the same period (1860s) but then with *so* much less primness about it. It’s unflinching in a way English lit never really is. I don’t think I’ll ever forget the dream sequence of the horse being flogged to death; but there’s many other examples where I did a double take at the brutal descriptions of the suffering poverty inflicts upon people, or that people inflict on each other.
Something written by Dickens or Gaskell, who were hailed for highlighting the suffering of the poor, would *never* openly address prostitution and the effects that has with compassion for the girl (any trespass against Christian values meant death for the girl in English lit - the ‘harlot’ must be punished!) or actually describe an attempted rape. Or suicide. Or attempted murder. Or actual murder. Like - it genuinely does not look away.
It’s worth the slog to read, lots of interesting themes and ideas bubbling away in there, but it is definitely about 150 pages too long (I know this is because it was serialised and back then they paid by the word - that really shows). The last quarter dragged.
Oh - and one final point - to the person who once told me my paragraphs are too long, even when they’re literally a few sentences: this dude wrote paragraphs that run literally unbroken for three whole pages. I think I’m ok 😆
(It was good natured criticism, I’m not at all salty - I just couldn’t stop thinking about it as these monster paragraphs just kept on going, and going…)
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Recently Read: Hallowe’en Party by Agatha Christie
4.75 stars!
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