Tag Archives: Book

In the Mountains

There is the oddest lot of books in this house, pitchforked together by circumstances, and sometimes their accidental rearrangement by Antoine after cleaning their shelves each spring of my absence would make their writers, if they could know, curdle between … Continue reading

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Mort

WHAT IS THAT SENSE INSIDE YOUR HEAD OF WISTFUL REGRET THAT THINGS ARE THE WAY THEY APPARENTLY ARE? Sadness, master. I think. Now – I AM SADNESS. ‘Do you know anything about m-dimensional topography?’ ‘Um. No’ ‘Then I shouldn’t aspire … Continue reading

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Why Beauty Is Truth

It is very unusual for me to give up on a book, especially when I am more than half way through with it. But I had to do that with Ian Stewart’s “Why Beauty Is Truth”, which was rather sad … Continue reading

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