When I was very young, my mother’s uncle from Kentucky convinced me that there were long-fingered creatures that lived in the dark in closets. They were called, he told me with great seriousness, garments, and they were definitely real. For years afterward, I would open closets and wonder if there really was some sort of […]
Category: literature
Some Thoughts on Orwell’s Essays (And Doom)
I’m reading Orwell’s Essays, pretty much on a total impulse: there they were in swiftly bootlegged format (the Penguin edition) on the shelves of a bookshop in a Cambodian river town. And I needed something to read. I harbor the intelligent child’s usual vague fondness for Orwell (or Eric Blair, of course), crafted from close […]