Soul of Wood
Jakov Lind’s Soul of Wood is technically an example of post-war German literature but I decided to include it anyway because all of these stories revolve around the second world war and its aftermath.
Antiquarian and Classic Book Reviews
Wesker is a fluffy, long-haired black cat with yellow eyes. Aloof and rare, she does not particularly like snuggles — though she is getting soft in her old age. She’s the oldest of the cats, and easily the most mature.
Wesker has always been independent. Hargrave’s first child, she’s the least spoiled cat of the bunch. She’s a black cat but she’s never brought anything but good luck to this house.
If you can throw a string, Wesker will chase it. The highest honour she can bestow is to climb on the sofa or the counter and groom your hair. And, if you’re really lucky, sometimes she’ll bring you a toy.
But only after she’s let you know that she’s bringing it by meowing loudly from a distant room.
Jakov Lind’s Soul of Wood is technically an example of post-war German literature but I decided to include it anyway because all of these stories revolve around the second world war and its aftermath.
This novella’s setting of an opulent but derelict and rotting mansion infected with the suggestion of long-ago deaths and violence ticked all of the spooky season boxes for me.
Salamon is exhaustive in her recounting of the movie-making process, from casting all the way to the final agonizing returns. I learned a lot about what it takes to produce a film, and the processes of people far removed from the actors and the cameras.
There’s a lot that Clark has added to these stories (and taken out of them) in order to arrive at the masterpiece of film he has produced. He’s done a lot with the original material.
It starts with a tone that is mundane but bitingly humorous as Bouillier tries to convince himself that he has let go of the mystery of the end of the relationship with the caller. He does a poor job of it.
Of all of the forms of memoir that I read, I feel particularly drawn towards the diary. There’s something about reading the immediate thoughts of the writer as they live through and work through the moment.
Caliban Shrieks has been described as somewhere between an autobiographical novel and a rant, and you know what? I actually agree with this statement.
Van Dyke seeks to explore racism as it exists in obvious, vocally expressed prejudice but also how it can be insidiously lurking below the surface of even some acts of seeming kindness. This writer excels at character study and exploration of human relationships, which definitely keeps you turning pages at an astounding rate.
The original Aztec word relates to five ‘worthless’ days at the end of the yearly cycle. Children born during these days were thought not to amount to much and be doomed to poverty and ill luck; these children were referred to as ‘nenoquich’.
The action centres around a writer named Katurian who is living in a totalitarian state. He has been brought in for questioning (and torturing) by police who are investigating a series of child murders based on Katurian’s stories.