Event hosted by Kaggsy's Ramblings Stuck in a Book #1977Club So much good women's fiction from 1977, from Margaret Atwood's Dancing Girls to Marilyn French's The Women's Room. But I reread Carol Shields' Unless last year and I wanted to reread another of hers. Enter, The
Is it too much? Or, just enough. What am I to make of this final story in my Alice Munro reading project. (I read her last collection, Dear Life, in 2012.) While rereading Too Much Happiness, I was constantly aware of the references to being happy, to happiness, in the
Unsurprisingly, “Some Women” offers readers a panoply of images of womanhood. It begins by hearkening back to an earlier time, when “girls wore waist cinches and crinolines that could stand up by themselves”. But then locates the narrator as being so old that even she is amazed by the number
Phyllis Rose took a year to read Proust and wrote her "memoir in real time". More recently, Rebecca Mead revisited Middlemarch and she, too, wrote a memoir which examined her own life in that context. In Tolstoy and the Purple Chair, Nina Sankovitch plunged into the classic Russian's work as part
McClelland & Stewart, 2006 Alice's father has remarried, and Irlma has made many changes in the house. "Irlma is a stout and rosy woman, with tinted butterscotch curls, brown eyes in which there is still a sparkle, a look of emotional readiness, of being always on the brink
