Bubastis

Bubastis is a fawn-coloured tabby with a brown nose. She’s the second oldest cat, and is best described as a ‘sweetie’. Most of the time, you can find Bubastis sleeping on Hargrave’s lap. Or in her pumpkin. Or on the bed. But laps are her favourite napping place.

Bubastis was the last kitten left, and she was definitely a runt. She has short whiskers, a stubby tail, and never really quite figured out that she’s a cat. Her favourite treat in the whole world is a couple drops of milk or cream, but she’ll try just about anything if you let her. (This includes: yogurt, ice cream, cake, potatoes, potato chips, cheese, and fruit.) She was very fat when she was younger. Now that she’s lost some weight, she’s just cutely chunky.

She loves to play with her miniature ball, which she’ll chase around only if you throw it just right. She’s also the best sister — Bubastis gets along with everyone.







The Open Door and Other Stories of the Seen and Unseen


19th Century

It’s surprising that her name seems mostly lost to time — like the grand majority female writers of the Victorian era. What makes it more of a tragedy in Oliphant’s case is that her work is quite good — even better than a lot of writers whose names I’ve seen on the more mainstream ghost story anthologies.





Barometer Rising


Wartime

It’s a book about many things: Canada’s struggle for identity as a sovereign nation with a complex relationship to Britain and British politics, the psychological and physical impacts of war, the differing attitudes of different strata of society towards the war overseas. I always find Can Lit particularly provides an atmosphere where this kind of multi-layered complexity flourishes. This is a review of Hugh MacLennan’s Barometer Rising.