February Bookshelf: Finches and Flamethrowers

“And just as music is the space between notes, just as the stars are beautiful because of the space between them, just as the sun strikes raindrops at a certain angle and throws a prism of color across the sky – so the space where I exist, and I want to keep existing, and to be quite frank I hope I die in, is exactly this middle distance: where despair struck pure otherness and created something sublime.”

Donna Tartt, The Goldfinch

I am writing this on the evening of World Book Day, which I celebrated by finishing my novel on the way to work and having nothing to read for the rest of the day or for my commute home; an uncommon horror. Continue reading “February Bookshelf: Finches and Flamethrowers”

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January Bookshelf: Sing, Lost Child

“Why do you go away? So that you can come back. So that you can see the place you came from with new eyes and extra colors. And the people there see you differently, too. Coming back to where you started is not the same as never leaving.”

Terry Pratchett, A Hat Full of Sky

I’ve been thinking a lot about reading as therapy recently. Bibliotherapy is what I do for a living, but even in our day to do lives, outside of a specifically therapeutic contexts, reading is healing. Why is that? What is it about getting out of our own skin for a few hours that allows us to come back refreshed and ready? Continue reading “January Bookshelf: Sing, Lost Child”

September Bookshelf: Descent into Idiothood

“After nourishment, shelter and companionship, stories are the thing we need most in the world.”

Philip Pullman

September was spent on a train, I feel. I commute almost an hour to work in the morning, and though it eats up a lot of my day I find myself not really minding (though I at least partly credit it for the increase in colds I’ve had recently). Continue reading “September Bookshelf: Descent into Idiothood”

August Bookshelf: Modern Rest and Relaxation

“No spring nor summer beauty hath such grace as I have seen in one autumnal face.”

John Donne, ‘The Autumnal’

August has been an odd month, chez Glover. I’ve hardly been home, and I don’t read a lot when I travel. Between a weekend at the hospitality of Stendhal festival (where I did read quite a bit, in fact, but it was The Very Hungry Caterpillar to an audience of rapt five-year-olds) and my annual retreat to the cinema for five days at Arrow Video Frightfest, I’m afraid I’ve been more of a square-eyes than a bookworm. Continue reading “August Bookshelf: Modern Rest and Relaxation”