I’ve been reading Raymond Williams’ work for a few months now, and I keep coming back to the same question: what is it about his writing that unsettles me? It’s not just that he’s a Welsh Marxist critic from the…
I’ve always been fascinated by Sigrid Undset, the Norwegian novelist who won the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1928. What draws me to her is the way she navigated the complexities of faith and identity, particularly as a woman living…
I keep coming back to Isaiah Berlin, not because I’ve studied him extensively, but because he fascinates me on a personal level. His life’s work is a complex tapestry of ideas that have left me both intrigued and uneasy. One…
Murasaki Shikibu’s story has been on my mind a lot lately, probably because I’ve been struggling to find my own place within the confines of tradition and expectation. As I read about her life, I’m struck by how familiar her…
Henry David Thoreau’s words have a way of settling into my bones, like the quiet stillness of a winter morning on Walden Pond. I’ve spent countless hours reading and re-reading his essays, trying to untangle the threads of his thoughts…
I’ve been thinking about Karl Popper lately, which is unfortunate because I was beginning to feel reasonably confident about a few things. Not important things, necessarily. Just the ordinary collection of opinions, assumptions, and carefully maintained convictions that allow a…
I’ve always been drawn to Charlotte Perkins Gilman’s The Yellow Wallpaper, but it wasn’t until I stumbled upon her essay “Why I Wrote ‘The Yellow Wallpaper’” that I felt a deep connection to her story. What resonated with me was…
I keep coming back to Stefan Zweig, the Austrian writer who left Europe just before it all fell apart. What draws me in is the way his life seemed to mirror the chaos and uncertainty of the times he lived…
I have a rather embarrassing habit of remembering conversations that never quite happened the way I insist they did. Not entirely imaginary conversations, mind you. I’m not that far gone. But I’ll remember a particular remark, a certain expression, the…
I’ve always been drawn to Elizabeth Bowen’s writing, but it’s not just her stories that captivate me – it’s the way she inhabits them. She’s a master of subtlety, often leaving more unsaid than said, and I find myself mirroring…
I’ve been thinking about Benedetto Croce a lot lately, ever since I stumbled upon his name in a footnote while reading about Italian philosophy. There’s something about him that fascinates me – or maybe it’s what he represents. As a…
I’ve always been drawn to Rose Macaulay’s writing, but it’s her life that really fascinates me. I think it’s because she was a woman ahead of her time – or at least, that’s what I tell myself when I’m reading…
I’ve always been fascinated by W.G. Grace, the English cricketer from the 19th century. As I write about him, I’m drawn to his contradictions – a man who was both revered and reviled, admired for his skill on the field…
Walter Ong’s writing on media has been haunting me for weeks now. I keep thinking about how he described the shift from oral to literate culture, and how it changed human consciousness. It sounds so abstract, but somehow it resonates…
Susan Stebbing. I only recently came across her name, tucked away in a footnote of a philosophy textbook. At first, I thought it was just another obscure figure from the early 20th century, someone whose work would be quaintly interesting…
Giacomo Leopardi’s words have been swirling around me like a perpetual storm for months now. I picked up his works during my final year of college, and as I read through the poems and essays, I felt a strange sense…
I’ve been thinking a lot about A.E. Housman lately, trying to figure out why his life resonates with me. Maybe it’s the way he struggled to find his place in the world, or perhaps it’s the intensity of his emotions…
I find myself drawn to Wyndham Lewis, the British modernist writer and artist, because of his intense dislike for his contemporaries, particularly James Joyce and Virginia Woolf. As someone who has navigated the complexities of academic relationships and found herself…
Maurice Blanchot – the more I think about him, the more he unsettles me. It’s not just his name that sounds like a French poet, it’s the way he writes about writing that makes me feel…distracted. Like I’m trying to…
Penelope Fitzgerald’s life is a reminder that sometimes the most beautiful things can be quietly devastating. I find myself drawn to her story, not because she was flashy or attention-grabbing, but precisely because of the opposite: she was a woman…
