I’ve always thought that the most frightening people don’t slam doors, rattle chains, or float about moaning like an amateur operatic chorus. They make the tea properly. They keep the house tidy. They speak softly. And they watch you. That’s why Seaton’s Aunt by Walter de la Mare unsettles me far more than any amount … Continue reading A Very English Form of Possession – de la Mare’s, Seaton’s Aunt
Tag: existential
The Laughing Maw: A Fool, His Blind Eye, and the Human Condition
Jacob Cornelisz van Oostsanen (attributed), The Laughing Fool, c.1500–1510. Oil on panel. Rijksmuseum Twenthe, Enschede. In art some faces smile, and some rupture. Faces that split open into something older than laughter and far more dangerous. The Laughing Fool belongs among these ruptures. He greets the viewer not with the civility of portraiture but with … Continue reading The Laughing Maw: A Fool, His Blind Eye, and the Human Condition
The Naked Civil Servant: A Gospel According to Outrage
This book didn’t slip quietly into the world like a well-behaved parishioner. The Naked Civil Servant — Quentin Crisp’s scandalous act of cultural streaking, his autobiographical confession written with the dignity of a saint and the insolence of a man determined to rattle the tea trays of middle England. It’s a work so defiantly honest, … Continue reading The Naked Civil Servant: A Gospel According to Outrage
‘Madness is not to be despised and not to be feared, but instead you should give it life’. — C. G. Jung
Madness isn’t a visitor, Jung tells us — it’s a tenant. A hereditary lodger sealed into the house of the psyche long before we learned to speak. Most people spend their lives pretending they don’t hear it pacing upstairs. They turn the radio up. They shut the door with a polite smile. They medicate the … Continue reading ‘Madness is not to be despised and not to be feared, but instead you should give it life’. — C. G. Jung
The Room in the Tower: A Dream with Teeth
For years I dreamt of a house that hated me. It wasn’t merely haunted — it was hostile. Its walls bowed with resentment, its staircase groaned in complaint, and the air inside was the colour of rot. Every visit was the same: I would wander through its ruined corridors, knowing instinctively that one door was … Continue reading The Room in the Tower: A Dream with Teeth
Wording 