Tagged with Tan Twan Eng

Feasts in Fiction

(For what is reading but appetite, the kind that sets your teeth on edge, craving a bite of the sumptuous?) To read, I learnt early, is to hunger… or it just might be that some books are meant to be devoured: Reading about the hearty, indomitable Gauls I always get caught up in the fish-mongering and dream … Continue reading


An October interlude, held together by gossamer: In a house adrift in mist, butterflies and free-standing giant dahlias and filled with bird call, cricket-chirr and the occasional toot as buses and cars swerved past this bend in the mountain, I recently read Jan Morris’ Trieste and the Meaning of Nowhere. Although she memorialised and allegorised an imperial … Continue reading

the bookshop around the corner

“I think I still have it in my heart someday to paint a bookshop with the front yellow and pink in the evening… like a light in the midst of darkness.” He was right in his choice of colours, of course, this painter of subtle shifts of light and colour: gloriously swirly starry nights and … Continue reading