A brief weekly round-up of a few good things.
Lord Byron's biographer has translated some letters from Lord Byron's boyfriend.
Winter behaving like winter. I know it's a pain in the ass but I'm so happy to have some seasonal normalcy.
The nine circles of artist housing hell.
A couple months old, but Ben Whishaw in the Criterion Closet is, in a word, adorable.
All aboard the Night Train.
A brief weekly round-up of some things that are good. This week I learned that, per the photo above, John Steinbeck was not only a towering figure of 20th-century literature, but also pretty hot! (Thanks to Laura for inadvertently alerting me to this fact.) As if I couldn't
It was towards the end of "Wuthering Heights" that I began to suspect I was going to hell, no matter that Jews don't believe in it. Cathy was on her death bed, expiring from septicemia, and Heathcliff was professing his love and sorrow. The woman next
A weekly round-up of some things that are good. The U.S. women's hockey team declined Trump's invitation to come visit him not once but twice because they know that they (and we) deserve better. Claire Keegan is a stone-cold boss of the novella, and Foster
Hello from the aftermath of the Great New York Snowpocalypse. There's almost two feet of snow on my balcony, but we're still in the grace period before the city turns to a noxious soup of blackened slush and uncollected dog shit, so for now, it'