Burial Rites

I have never, perhaps with the exception of those times I’ve posted a picture of a Donna Tartt or George Orwell novel, received so many rave reviews in my Instagram notifications as I did with Hannah Kent’s ‘Burial Rites.’ It was astonishing to think that this debut novel, so often the most overlooked story on … Continue reading Burial Rites


The Underground Railroad

“…today might be her birthday. What did you get for that, for knowing the day you were born into the white man’s world? It didn’t seem like the thing to remember. More like to forget.” My edition of The Underground Railroad has two front covers. One features the wonderful blood red cover art overlaid the … Continue reading The Underground Railroad

What Makes a Home, or, Why I Have So Many Bloody Books

I moved into a new place this week – a lovely ground floor flat with wooden floors, high ceilings and a bay window. It’s a triumph – I’ve been lodging at the expense of good people for too long, my belongings strewn across the globe. I fully recognise how lucky I am to have had … Continue reading What Makes a Home, or, Why I Have So Many Bloody Books

The Vegetarian

Much like a book’s cover, I never expect the title of a book to convey all its secrets. Yet even coupled with its blurb, ‘The Vegetarian’ seems an esoteric read from the outside. Perhaps that’s why I kept glossing over it with only a passing interest when I was looking for my next read. Finally, … Continue reading The Vegetarian

Do Not Say We Have Nothing

It's 12:18 pm. I'm on the subway when the conductor says, 'The next stop is St Enoch.' I have just missed my stop and it's entirely Madeleine Thien's fault. I am an erratic reader. On a day off, I might spend seven or eight hours with my nose stuck between pages, wilfully ignoring absolutely everything else in … Continue reading Do Not Say We Have Nothing

The Hate U Give

It's 1968. Huey P. Newton, co-founder of the Black Panthers, gives an interview from inside a jail. 'The revolution,' he says, 'has always been in the hands of the young. The young always inherit the revolution...They are the real vanguard of change because they haven't been indoctrinated and they haven't submitted.' Youth is righteous anger. … Continue reading The Hate U Give

Nasty Women

I remember the year I first started studying the kind of feminism that keeps you awake at night. None of my initiation into feminism involved a cheery 'Happy Galentines Day!' or 'Consent is sexy!' It was in high school in Australia. I was sixteen, and I had a great teacher who in equal measure awed me and … Continue reading Nasty Women