W. Somerset Maugham’s The Painted Veil is a bit like finding a deceptively lovely flower in a poisoned Chinese river. Ostensibly a story of love, betrayal, and redemption, it teases the reader with a delicate veneer of romance, only to plunge us headfirst into a cynical, uncomfortably reflective look at the human soul. If you thought you … Continue reading The Painted Veil: A Saucy Dissection of W. Somerset Maugham’s Sublime Slap in the Face
Category: My Words
Thoughts and memories-a-plenty!
Forget the Fawkes: Why We Owe the Gunpowder Plot to Robert Catesby
If you ask the average Briton who led the Gunpowder Plot, chances are they’ll mutter “Guy Fawkes” while half-heartedly stirring their tea. Fireworks, effigies, and a roaring bonfire dedicated to burning Mr Fawkes have immortalised him as the nation’s favourite terrorist (or anti-hero, depending on how rebellious you’re feeling). But the truth is, Guy Fawkes … Continue reading Forget the Fawkes: Why We Owe the Gunpowder Plot to Robert Catesby
Sex, Solitude, and a Side of Nietzsche: Making Sense of The Unbearable Lightness of Being
Milan Kundera’s The Unbearable Lightness of Being is a novel that deals with such weighty topics that it almost feels ironic to handle them with a title so buoyant as 'lightness.' This text floats through philosophy, politics, love, and betrayal with the kind of existential pondering usually reserved for lonely people in cafes at 2am. It’s a … Continue reading Sex, Solitude, and a Side of Nietzsche: Making Sense of The Unbearable Lightness of Being
Lewis’ Surprised by Joy
Recently, I had the chance to watch Shadowlands, the deeply moving film starring Anthony Hopkins, among others. From the outset, I knew I wouldn’t make it through without a lump forming in my throat or my eyes welling up. And I was right - especially given the fragile state of my emotions lately. The film, after … Continue reading Lewis’ Surprised by Joy
Oh, Kiss Me, Autumn
Autumn has arrived. Last night, plagued by restless sleep, I found myself unable to surrender to slumber. Instead, I toyed with words, letting them tumble and twist, a late-night distraction born of weary thoughts. What began as a simple exercise in the haze of sleeplessness soon transformed, and somewhere amidst that nocturnal rambling, a poem … Continue reading Oh, Kiss Me, Autumn