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“I don’t want
to take these women’s lives with a clean death.
They’ve poured insults on my head, on my mother,
This was the absolute last book I read in 2015 – I read the whole thing on Christmas Day. Yes, it was a present. I’d already written my favourites of 2015 by then, but I had to revisit the thing, because this book was too good not to be on that list. 1,012 more words
“The Penelopiad” almost hits the mark but is ill-equipped to impress. The adaptation of Margaret Atwood’s novella of the same name is wrought with awkward and static delivery of lines, rigid execution of choreography and the occasional technical difficulty, but the visual composition is magnificent. 835 more words
2015 was a good book year. My total count is at 40, which is pretty standard for me. Every year I try to read a book per week, but I’m a notoriously slow reader, and I also try to have somewhat of a social life! 283 more words
Officially obsessed with Margaret Atwood, though that should come as a surprise to no one. But prior to reading The Penelopiad, the only Atwood book I’d read was 659 more words