Category Archives: fragments of culture

20 favourite prose fictions

I need to take a break from all the Xenogears-posting. The laziest best change of pace I can think of is to do an update of my previous list of favourite prose fictions, especially given how I’ve spent a lot … Continue reading

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I’m a stranger here myself

I know I intimated that I was leaving off the amateur film critic stuff, but I have to say something about Johnny Guitar, a movie I’ve already seen three times now this year. The last time I watched something which … Continue reading

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Re-reading. sea brine

I’m now in the middle of rereading Moby-Dick, which I last reread a little over a year ago. This third time around, I find things just click so beautifully with me. If we’re going to compare it with Ulysses, that … Continue reading

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rhyme being no necessary adjunct or true ornament

One of the problems with turning more time and attention towards prose fiction writing is that it leaves even less time and attention for the more instant gratification of blogging. Anyway, I wrapped up volume three of In Search of … Continue reading

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love’s neverdoneing lawlessness

I’ve talked a lot about pop-culturey stuff on this blog, so perhaps one way to ease into a somewhat different kind of normal is to talk about it from an angle I rarely do: music. A little over a decade … Continue reading

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Recherche

At a certain point I think it’d be good to attempt a more positive explication here of where I’m at, faith-wise, where I find myself in the Anglican communion and so forth. But maybe later: Although I’m no longer writhing … Continue reading

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Thinking of divers things fore-known

I’m not quite sure how to get this blog back into a place of normality again. Assuming, of course, that I can arrive at an understanding of what “normal” is supposed to look like here, where there has been no … Continue reading

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End of an era

Let’s do a movie thing. It’s been a while. Writer-director Whit Stillman is probably the closest thing American cinema has to a Jane Austen, in that his movies tend to be comedies of manners about insular, WASPish social circles with … Continue reading

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Brute beauty

The Windhover, by Gerard Manley Hopkins To Christ our Lord I caught this morning morning’s minion, king- dom of daylight’s dauphin, dapple-dawn-drawn Falcon, in his riding Of the rolling level underneath him steady air, and striding High there, how he … Continue reading

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La filette revolutionaire

The trouble is that it’s already been over a month since I wrapped up my Ulysses re-read; I may need to go back at it again if I want to keep writing about it. This whole thing is threatening to … Continue reading

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