Dead girl and heron: Joyce Carol Oates

Content warning: child abuse (reference), sexual assault (reference) Before reading her work, I’d assumed Joyce Carol Oates was one of those writers who churned out weepy family sagas. As many fateful reading habits begin, I picked up Daddy Love (2013) by accident. It was an entirely disturbing read, tracking the fate of a young boy … Continue reading Dead girl and heron: Joyce Carol Oates

Woman with her throat cut: Musing on Final Portrait

An interesting thing happened during the Sydney Film Festival today. So, it’s a screening of Final Portrait, a bio-pic of Swiss artist Alberto Giacometti, starring the incredible Geoffrey rush. It’s a glorious film set in 1960s Paris, in monochromatic artist dwellings the same clay hues as the raw material worked by Giacometti himself. Directed by … Continue reading Woman with her throat cut: Musing on Final Portrait

I adore thee: Hag-Seed / Margaret Atwood

On the rare occasion, a book sends you reeling, completely potent with possibility and a narrative that transcends the ordinary. I’ve been a fan (nigh-on Misery-level) of Margaret Atwood after reading The Handmaid’s Tale. Since then, many of her books have become all-time favourites, including the incredible Maddadam trilogy. In both of those works, Atwood mastered uniquely … Continue reading I adore thee: Hag-Seed / Margaret Atwood

In defence of reading genre: What Dark Clouds Hide / Anne Holt

I’m guilty of book-snobbery. My guilty genre of choice is that mysterious beast known as Scandinavian or Nordic noir. Brooding, complex, ambivalent, gritty, cold and psychologically challenging, it has all the hallmarks I love to read. Scandi-noir is notably less concerned with following a crime procedural formula. Characters in these books are flawed, and the … Continue reading In defence of reading genre: What Dark Clouds Hide / Anne Holt