@thewriterkb / thewriterkb.tumblr.com
Read, Write or Study. 30 Minutes.
Reading Never Let Me Go, by Kazuo Ishiguro. Conservatorium of Music. Shadows working as a Sundial from 0:20 to 29:20
“Memories, even your most precious ones, fade surprisingly quickly. But I don’t go along with that. The memories I value most, I don’t ever see them fading.” - Kazuo Ishiguro, Never Let Me Go.
Read, Write or Study. 30 Minutes.
Reading Never Let Me Go, by Kazuo Ishiguro. Conservatorium of Music. Shadows working as a Sundial from 0:20 to 29:20
“Memories, even your most precious ones, fade surprisingly quickly. But I don’t go along with that. The memories I value most, I don’t ever see them fading.” - Kazuo Ishiguro, Never Let Me Go.
Old Town Rooftop🏘️
Read, Write or Study. 25 Minutes.
Reading Silence, by Shūsaku Endō. Casco Antinguo, Sevilla. Forgot my place at 00:25 😅
"Sin, he reflected, is not what it is usually thought to be; it is not to steal and tell lies. Sin is for one man to walk brutally over the life of another and to be quite oblivious of the wounds he has left behind.”
Old Town Rooftop🏘️
Read, Write or Study. 25 Minutes.
Reading Silence, by Shūsaku Endō. Casco Antinguo, Sevilla. Forgot my place at 00:25 😅
"Sin, he reflected, is not what it is usually thought to be; it is not to steal and tell lies. Sin is for one man to walk brutally over the life of another and to be quite oblivious of the wounds he has left behind.”
In Harper Lee’s classic courtroom-thriller To Kill a Mockingbird[1], the questioning eyes of its narrator introduces one of the book’s most mysterious characters in a damning way: “Inside the house lived a malevolent phantom,” Scout narrates. The elusive Arthur “Boo” Radley.
Through the eyes of the children and the whisperings of the townspeople in Maycomb, the portrayals of Boo Radley throughout the novel paint the man as a sinister and dangerous figure. Indeed, it is only through the ever-logical eyes of Scout’s father, Atticus Finch, and through circumstances forced upon the children, that we understand there may be more to Boo than his perceived malevolence.
Although more known as a piece of literature that reflects upon the racial inequalities of the 1930s, Harper Lee interlaces the narrative with an invaluable commentary on abuse, trauma, and the stigmatisation of mental illness as a whole — most of which is centred around the “Malevolent Phantom” Boo Radley. Through the lens of modern medicine, it is now possible to delve deeper into works of literature from the past, in turn increasing our understanding of different disease-states throughout various eras. By attempting to discuss the likely aetiology and condition of Boo, To Kill a Mockingbird becomes a tool for understanding the perception of illness in the rural southern states of pre-1950s America.
A clear feature of Boo Radley’s possible diagnosis is his internally and externally imposed reclusiveness. In fact, the Radley household as a whole are regarded as unusual — and even rude — due to their unwillingness to socialise, as presented in Scout’s narration that “The Radleys, welcome anywhere in town, kept to themselves, a predilection unforgivable in Maycomb”. This peculiarity only works to pique the children’s interest in Boo more. Despite being an undoubtedly antisocial family, the Radley parents can regularly be seen walking on the streets. Arthur Radley, by contrast, seems only to exist in the rumours of the residents.
In Harper Lee’s classic courtroom-thriller To Kill a Mockingbird[1], the questioning eyes of its narrator introduces one of the book’s most mysterious characters in a damning way: “Inside the house lived a malevolent phantom,” Scout narrates. The elusive Arthur “Boo” Radley.
Through the eyes of the children and the whisperings of the townspeople in Maycomb, the portrayals of Boo Radley throughout the novel paint the man as a sinister and dangerous figure. Indeed, it is only through the ever-logical eyes of Scout’s father, Atticus Finch, and through circumstances forced upon the children, that we understand there may be more to Boo than his perceived malevolence.
Although more known as a piece of literature that reflects upon the racial inequalities of the 1930s, Harper Lee interlaces the narrative with an invaluable commentary on abuse, trauma, and the stigmatisation of mental illness as a whole — most of which is centred around the “Malevolent Phantom” Boo Radley. Through the lens of modern medicine, it is now possible to delve deeper into works of literature from the past, in turn increasing our understanding of different disease-states throughout various eras. By attempting to discuss the likely aetiology and condition of Boo, To Kill a Mockingbird becomes a tool for understanding the perception of illness in the rural southern states of pre-1950s America.
A clear feature of Boo Radley’s possible diagnosis is his internally and externally imposed reclusiveness. In fact, the Radley household as a whole are regarded as unusual — and even rude — due to their unwillingness to socialise, as presented in Scout’s narration that “The Radleys, welcome anywhere in town, kept to themselves, a predilection unforgivable in Maycomb”. This peculiarity only works to pique the children’s interest in Boo more. Despite being an undoubtedly antisocial family, the Radley parents can regularly be seen walking on the streets. Arthur Radley, by contrast, seems only to exist in the rumours of the residents.
Read, Write or Study. 30 Minutes.
Reading Hear the Wind Sing, by Haruki Murakami. UoW Campus, Australia. Tea time at 6:11🍵
“The more honest I try to be, the more the right words recede into the distance.”
“My grandmother has lived there her whole life,” Martín said, his eyes finding mine in the rear-view mirror. “And even she leaves Granada in August.”
The sharp edges of the Sierra Nevada slowly lifted itself from the surface of the Earth, welcoming our approach into the city.
“I’ve lived in hot. I can do hot. I’m sure everything will be fine,” I responded.
The eyes in the mirror wrinkled, and my companion gave me an acquiescent little smile before returning his gaze to the road. Martín had offered me a ride down south after he had found me slumped on a kerbside near the Parada de Autobús in Getafe. I had missed my bus to Granada, so I supposed he could be forgiven for feeling a little sceptical.
He was travelling to Granada to pick up some of his grandmother’s belongings, he had said, before him and his family took to the south coast of Spain. He went there every August for its cool ocean breezes, affordable accommodation, and — at least for Martín — the entertainment of seeing scores of tourists pink like lobsters and staggering around on the streets. They were always “borracho y quemado” he told me gleefully when I asked him what his plans were for summer. Drunk and burned.
Read, Write or Study. 30 Minutes.
Reading The 9th Judgement, by James Patterson. Botanic Garden, Wollongong. The Air Force comes at 11:05 🦜
“Good memories are like charms. Each is special. You collect them, one by one, until one day you look back and discover they make a long, colourful bracelet.”
Read, Write or Study. 25 Minutes.
Reading The 9th Judgement, by James Patterson. Botanic Garden, Wollongong. Coffee break at 4:13 ☕
“I’m just a Google click away from knowing where you live, who your friends are, who you love. So I guess you’ve got an even better reason to make this a payday for me, don’t you, sweetmeat?”
Why do you think James Patterson is hated by writers?
