Oh boy, it’s been a day so far. Sickness has descended upon our household, creating a soundtrack of wheezy coughing and splattery, honking noseblows. And my brain chose this morning to hyper-fixate on anything and everything but this newsletter, which means it’ll be going out later than intended. Here are some things I’ve been doing instead of writing:
Researching alternatives to Spotify that don’t run ads for ICE recruitment1
Unpacking a Grove delivery that’s been sitting by the front door for several days
Using newly obtained stain treatment spray to go back over the weighted blanket that Louise peed on last week
Trying to locate the upholstery cleaning code for our couch so I can treat some stained cushion covers (unsuccessful)
Vacuuming up all the dust and cat hair I discovered under the couch while searching for said tag
Googling care instructions for West Elm distressed velvet fabric (inconclusive)
Falling down a rabbit hole of couch-cleaning videos on TikTok
Giving up, spraying a small spot on the cushion cover, and hoping it does the trick without discoloring the fabric
I hope your Monday has been less scattered and more satisfying than mine! Jordan’s making us some tea—maybe a hot beverage will help me focus up. Let’s get into it.
Read this week
I’ve been looking forward to Katabasis by R.F. Kuang ever since it was announced, and it did not disappoint. This is the story of Alice, a graduate student in the field of Magick, who finds herself on a literal journey to Hell in hopes of rescuing her adviser, Professor Jacob Grimes. She is accompanied by Peter, a friend and classmate, and over the course of their travels, details and misunderstandings from their shared past come to light. I loved the academic setting, which felt similar in flavor to Kuang’s previous novel Babel, and the way the plot’s twists and turns kept me guessing. There are a lot of references to real philosophers, mathematicians, scientists, and other thinkers, some of which I understood and others that went over my head—these will add to the reading experience if you get them, but I don’t think they’re necessary for enjoying the story. Kuang is such a smart writer and I really appreciate her skill at balancing intellectualism and accessibility. There’s a lot of meat to the text, but it’s also funny, sharp, and entertaining. Plus, I found out after I finished it2 that the Peter character is basically just Hiccup from How to Train Your Dragon:
What a delightful human, right? I’ve read Yellowface and Babel, but now I’m pretty sure I need to check out The Poppy War trilogy as well.
My in-person book club met this week to discuss The Safekeep by Yael van der Wouden and, in a somewhat rare turn of events, we all really liked it. I didn’t know a ton about the plot going in, which I recommend—I’ll simply say that it’s set in the Netherlands in the 1960s, and there are elements of World War II aftermath and sapphic romance. The vibes felt like a mix of Bitter Orange by Claire Fuller, The Paying Guests by Sarah Waters, and House of Sand and Fog by Andre Dubus III, slow and quiet and a little uneasy throughout. This book got me thinking about some complexities of post-WWII life that I hadn’t considered before and provided so much good discussion material for our group of friends. I highly recommend it if you’re looking for a compelling and moody autumn read.
Speaking of vibes! Let’s talk about a middle-aged atheist woman moving to a convent in rural Australia to live and work with nuns! Stone Yard Devotional by Charlotte Wood is a novel in fragments whose structure and meandering nature reminded me a bit of Jenny Offill. It follows our unnamed narrator as she leaves her husband and whole world behind, choosing instead a quiet existence among sisters following a faith she doesn’t subscribe to. Not a ton happens—there’s an infestation of mice, and a Whole Thing involving the remains of a sister who went missing years ago being being found and returned for burial—but the stream of consciousness is strong. I enjoyed wandering with the protagonist through her mental landscape: to her recent past, her childhood, her family, her perception of the world more broadly, her understanding of concepts like escape and forgiveness.
A feeling that something is coming, waiting to be born, out of this time. Almost physical, like before a period, or a pregnancy, or vomiting. Something is getting ready to resolve itself. (254)
The overarching mood of the book could be summarized this way. Certain plot points wrap up in the end, but I wouldn’t say there’s a strong sense of finality. More like an open-ended question, a continued searching, a lingering weight. Read this one if you like a slow pace and a lot to ponder.
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Watched this week
Over the past few months I’ve been rewatching Gilmore Girls for the billionth time (I truly cannot tell you how many journeys I’ve made through this series) and I finally finished it this week. There were tears. I know I’m not the first to get emotional about Stars Hollow, but my heart—this show feels like home, these characters my friends. Reaching the end of their story again feels like a deep loss. A Year in the Life, while definitely imperfect,3 serves as a nice stopgap, a brief dip back into that world, but it’s simply too short. I want more. Is it too early to start over from the beginning?
Relatedly, I was so excited to see my friend Rosamond write about her recent experience at Stars Hollow Saturday in Hartford, Connecticut. What perfect timing, what a balm:
I’ve been eagerly anticipating A Little Prayer (2023) for quite a while, as it was filmed here in Winston-Salem and the trailer piqued my interest. It’s about an older couple whose son and daughter-in-law live with them, who become wrapped up in complicated family dynamics when they realize that their son, a young veteran with an alcohol problem, is cheating on his wife, whom they adore. Meanwhile their other child has shown up unannounced with her own daughter, hoping to temporarily escape her partner and their problems at home.
On paper, this should be my shit. Messiness, emotions, addiction, heartbreak despite everyone’s best intentions? And a local setting? Give it! But for whatever reason, A Little Prayer fell flat—some of the acting was stiff and unnatural, the feelings forced, the pacing unbearably slow. I could tell when the emotional peak arrived, but I couldn’t summon any reaction besides disappointment that it wasn’t hitting.
Oh well! It was cool to see some familiar places on the big screen—I’ve been to that museum, I’ve walked that trail, I have an Easter picnic every year on that lawn. And my walk to and from the movie theater was lovely, so at least there’s that.
Haiku round-up
Haiku is a poetic form that originated in Japan, containing seventeen syllables in a five-seven-five pattern. At the beginning of 2024, I started writing one every day, and while traditional examples include thematic reference to the seasons, mine tend to be a bit more all over the place. Here are this week’s efforts—enjoy!
Monday, October 6
I don’t know I’ve drooped until I feel life return, the contrast a shock
Tuesday, October 7
Loyal and steadfast, my model of partnership Forty-seven years
Wednesday, October 8
A recognition: in this way, we are the same Toes tap out delight
Thursday, October 9
Wind numbing my cheeks, gravity indecisive I might soar away
Friday, October 10
From grey, hints of pink flashing coral before they fade into bruises
Saturday, October 11
Another stunner Marbled plum and glowing coals Day wrapped up in awe
Sunday, October 12
Every departure an absence and a lightness more space, now, to dance
Until next time
My favorite ride at the fair is the swings. I love the ferris wheel too, for its expansive and dizzying view at the top, for the way its small circular cars force friends to cram together, knees knocking in the middle as they giggle, giddy with the height. But there’s something about the feeling of the swings. It’s pure freedom. It’s knowing that if at any moment these chains failed and this seat went flying, there would be no surviving—in the weightlessness there’s great risk, in the soaring a deep acceptance. Even as my heart thrills with the terror of possibility, I stretch out my limbs, lean my head back, and smile into the rush of cold night air as it dances through my tangling hair. What will be will be, and here I am to welcome it as it comes.
See you next Monday, and until then: honk, Jesus, honk.
♥︎ Emily
This is so beyond disgusting, I simply can’t fathom it.
Thanks to my friend Tee for sharing this video with me!
My god, Amy Sherman-Palladino, cool it with the fatphobia, please.