Illustration inspired by Goethe’s Faust I’ve always preferred my devils civilised. Not the horned livestock of Sunday-school murals, nor the pantomime villain with a pitchfork and a contract written in sulphur. Those devils are easy to spot, which is why they’re mostly harmless. The devil that troubles me — the one who lingers — is … Continue reading The Smiling Corroder
Category: My Words
Thoughts and memories-a-plenty!
John Martin’s Pandemonium: A Sermon of Fire and Futility
John Martin (1789–1854), Pandemonium, 1841.Oil on canvas. Tate Britain, London. Public domain. There are certain paintings before which I feel less a viewer and more a trespasser — a mortal who has wandered into a divine quarrel. John Martin’s Pandemonium (1841) is one such work. One scarcely enters it so much as one plummets into … Continue reading John Martin’s Pandemonium: A Sermon of Fire and Futility
The Lottery: A Sermon in Sunlight
This isn’t a story that creeps like fog, but a story that strikes like a thrown stone. Though Shirley Jackson’s The Lottery manages both. It begins with a sky of perfect summer blue, as though God Himself had painted it fresh for a village fête, and ends with Tessie Hutchinson screaming under a rain of … Continue reading The Lottery: A Sermon in Sunlight
Sunset Over the Pennines
There are evenings when the world seems to exhale — slowly, like an old scholar closing a book he’s read a thousand times and loved each time a little differently. Tonight, the sun slipped behind the Pennines with the poise of a fading monarch, leaving behind a trembling rim of gold as though reluctant to … Continue reading Sunset Over the Pennines
The Legion in the Swine: A Short Sermon on Empty Souls and Borrowed Flesh
Some passages in Scripture read like thunder: sharp crack, sudden light, then a silence in which something ancient vibrates in the bones. The story of the Gadarene demoniac is one of them. A naked man shrieking among the tombs; chains snapped like wet wool; a village too afraid to bury its dead without one eye … Continue reading The Legion in the Swine: A Short Sermon on Empty Souls and Borrowed Flesh
Wording 