More specifically concerning: laura riding
flurried
17 December 2020, around 6.23.
A glimpse of the season’s first snowfall, through the window, at night. The first snow of the season (or the first snow I was awake to see falling) reminded me of something that I’ve been meaning to do. I am trying to read more patiently – not necessarily more attentively or carefully, but more patiently, or […]
29.v.2021
29 May 2021, around 18.10.
‘But come a little closer, darlings, that I may kick you a little harder.’ —Laura Riding, Anarchism Is Not Enough
29.v.2021b
29 May 2021, around 18.21.
The impossibility of satisfying even oneself; or, on having no clean linen in which to wrap things: Yes, I once knew a woman who spent all her time washing her linen, in order to be always fresh and sweet smelling. But as she was always washing dirty linen and thus making the linen she wore […]
the misanthrope
31 May 2021, around 23.53.
Laura Riding considers the tedium of the phallus.
untold runes
1 June 2021, around 14.05.
The conversion of nothing into something is the task of criticism. Literature is the storehouse of these rescued somethings. In discussing literature one has to use, unfortunately, the same language that one uses in discussing experience. But even so, literature is preferable to experience, since it is for the most part the closest one can […]