On the streets of San Francisco

Originally posted on Etcetera Etcetera Etcetera:
“The fellowship of the cable car.” San Francisco, USA. October 2017 (17 photos) This is part 1 of my USA 2017 photo series. I thought I’d take a momentary pause from my posts about Cuba to post about one of my other destinations from my trip last year, San…


The artist must possess the courageous soul that dares and defies.
Kate Chopin


  Fears The sensation of being the only guest in a grand hotel on the outskirts of the city —and hearing the somnambulistic elevator and a scream— or being in an empty theater or in a lonely plaza of a lonely unknown city weighed down with suitcases and no money surrounded by escaped doves from…


Patience and I have traveled hand in hand
So many days that I have grown to trace
The lines of sad, sweet beauty in her face,
And all its veiled depths to understand.

In Black and White

My last look at Jun’ichirō Tanizaki’s work involved a short piece blending thriller and erotic themes, and today’s choice, on the surface at least, is a very similar novel. Once again, we’re off to Tokyo, in the company of a writer who becomes swept up in an intrigue involving a beautiful woman and night-time assignations. […]…

Life is fine

I went down to the river, I set down on the bank. I tried to think but couldn’t, So I jumped in and sank. I came up once and hollered! I came up twice and cried! If that water hadn’t a-been so cold I might’ve sunk and died. But it was Cold in that water!…

Do not Ask Me to Remember

  Do not ask me to remember, Don’t try to make me understand, Let me rest and know you’re with me, Kiss my cheek and hold my hand. I’m confused beyond your concept, I am sad and sick and lost. All I know is that I need you To be with me at all cost….

Was it an Illusion? A Parson’s Story

My first appointment was to a West of England district largely peopled with my personal friends and connections. It was, therefore, much to my annoyance that I found myself, after a couple of years of very pleasant work, transferred to what a policeman would call ‘a new beat,’ up in the North. Unfortunately for me, my new beat-a rambling…

Elena Ferrante — Poetry Curator

“I believe that books, once they are written, have no need of their authors. If they have something to say, they will sooner or later find readers; if not, they won’t. . . . I very much love those mysterious volumes, both ancient and modern, that have no definite author but have had and continue […]…

The Last Sixty Minutes

A clock is a little machine that shuts us out from the wonder of time.
Susan Glaspell

The Lumber Room

The young have aspirations that never come to pass, the old have reminiscences of what never
H.H. Munro (SAKI)

The Cats

Babels of blocks to the high heavens towering Flames of futility swirling below; Poisonous fungi in brick and stone flowering, Lanterns that shudder and death-lights that glow. Black monstrous bridges across oily rivers, Cobwebs of cable to nameless things spun; Catacomb deeps whose dank chaos delivers Streams of live foetor that rots in the sun….

Monsieur Proust by Céleste Albaret – Wonderful

Originally posted on Book Around The Corner:
Monsieur Proust by Céleste Albaret (1973) – Remembrances collected by Georges Belmont. Céleste was a country girl from the Creuse department who married Odilon Albaret in 1913 and came to live in Paris. Her husband was a taxi driver, one of Marcel Proust’s preferred chauffeurs. This is how…

The Cactus

The most notable thing about Time is that it is so purely relative. A large amount of reminiscence is, by common consent, conceded to the drowning man; and it is not past belief that one may review an entire courtship while removing one’s gloves.

When You are Old — Poetry Curator

When You are Old William Butler Yeats, 1865-1939 When you are old and gray and full of sleep, And nodding by the fire, take down this book, And slowly read, and dream of the soft look Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep; How many loved your moments of glad grace, And loved […]…

The Impostor by Javier Cercas

Originally posted on Winstonsdad's Blog:
? The Impostor by Javier Cercas Spanish Non-Fiction Original title – El Impostor Translator – Frank Wynne Source – review copy Well, a change from German lit month for a book from one of my favourite Spanish writers of recent years. Javier Cercas has featured on the blog three…

For Meng Hao-Jan

I love Master Meng. Free as a flowing breeze, He is famous Throughout the world. In rosy youth, he cast away Official cap and carriage. Now, a white-haired elder, he reclines Amid pines and cloud. Drunk beneath the moon, He often attains sagehood. Lost among the flowers, He serves no lord. How can I aspire…

Death and the Woman

Writing was my real life and I was more at home with the people of my imagination than with the best I met in the objective world. Gertrude Atherton

Una Invitada de Más

A veces resolver un crimen no es tarea fácil, pero en el cielo todo es muy distinto, y mucho más si la investigación es llevada a cabo por Pedro, conocido apóstol y único propietario de las llaves del monopolio celestial. Su larga estancia en el espacio aéreo le ha proporcionado muchos privilegios, pero también le…

A Ghost

Yes, for ten minutes I was a prey to terror, in such a way that ever since a constant dread has remained in my soul…

A very short song

Once, when I was young and true, Someone left me sad- Broke my brittle heart in two; And that is very bad. Love is for unlucky folk, Love is but a curse. Once there was a heart I broke; And that, I think, is worse. By Dorothy Parker  

Homage to Catalonia by George Orwell

Originally posted on Book Around The Corner:
Homage to Catalonia by George Orwell. (April 1938) French title: Hommage à la Catalogne. It is very difficult to write accurately about the Spanish war, because of the lack of non-propagandist documents. I warn everyone against my bias, and I warn everyone against my mistakes. Still, I have…

Clouds will separate us

Clouds will separate us — the time to part has come now. Wild goose flies away… By Matsuo Basho  

The Library of Secrets

There are parts of the world that weren’t dark at all, but in civilisation that stretched from Spain to China the golden rays of discovery and invention shone over everything…

Rasputin and Other Ironies by Teffi

Originally posted on JacquiWine's Journal:
One of my favourite reads from last year was Subtly Worded, a fascinating collection of short stories and reminiscences by the esteemed Russian writer, Teffi. Having enjoyed this book so much, I was delighted to hear that Pushkin Press would be publishing two more works by Teffi in 2016:…

A Mental Suggestion

Perhaps it is better to wake up after all, even to suffer, rather than to remain a dupe to illusions all one’s life.
Kate Chopin

Fat and Thin

When a person is born, he can embark on only one of three roads of life: if you go right, the wolves will eat you; if you go left, you’ll eat the wolves; if you go straight, you’ll eat yourself.

Anton Chekhov

Las flores cierran en invierno

Originally posted on Satisfacciones de esclavo:
La ceguera repartida para todos los combatientes aqueos es lo que viene a la mente de Ulises, no del héroe. Con su poética breve de sugerencia al oído -no en vano nos lo acarició muchos años en la radio- el autor nos planta ante el espejo del naufragio que…

A Cosmopolite in a Cafe

I was sure that I had found at last the one true cosmopolite since Adam, and I listened to his worldwide discourse fearful lest I should discover in it the local note of the mere globe-trotter.

Aforismos Chinos

Uno debería ver las sombras de las flores
en el agua, la sombra de los bambúes bajo la luna, y la sombra de la belleza detrás de la cortina de una puerta.

On The Life Of Man

Where wee are drest for tyme’s short comedy:
The earth’s the stage, heaven the spectator is…

The Hanging Stranger

On his own writing, Dick commented, “In my writing I even question the universe; I wonder out loud if it is real, and I wonder out loud if all of us are real.”

A Dead Woman’s Secret

The woman had died without pain, in silence, as a woman whose life would have been blameless…