[O]ne Amazon, Joan Larkin, was like someone I knew. And she was drinking a beer, thank god. I just remember the light being on her made her kind of tawny. She had brown hair (like me) and spoke in a fairly normal voice, and she seemed a little serious too, but warm. She gave me some hope that perhaps someday I could be a lesbian.
Head girls/ boys and prefects are real positions?!? I thought J.K. Rowling made that up.
Well-run libraries are filled with people because what a good library offers cannot be easily found elsewhere: an indoor public space in which you do not have to buy anything in order to stay. In the modern state there are very few sites where this is possible. The only others that come readily to my mind require belief in an omnipotent creator as a condition for membership. It would seem the most obvious thing in the world to say that the reason why the market is not an efficient solution to libraries is because the market has no use for a library. But it seems we need, right now, to keep re-stating the obvious. There aren’t many institutions left that fit so precisely Keynes’ definition of things that no one else but the state is willing to take on. Nor can the experience of library life be recreated online. It’s not just a matter of free books. A library is a different kind of social reality (of the three dimensional kind), which by its very existence teaches a system of values beyond the fiscal.
The Perks of Being a Wallflower is a book I loved very much in high school. It’s a book a lot of people loved, and then a lot of people hated, because that’s how these things usually work. Things are novel and then they are trite and then you will start to doubt whether anything you ever really loved was wonderful after all. The Perks of Being a Wallflower was a wonderful book because I loved it and not the other way around. It was an introduction to subculture for many of us living in white bread suburbia who hadn’t yet begun to conceive of things like gay football players or Smiths records or cross-dressing performance artists. I, like the eponymous wallflower Charlie, had never been to a real party or done drugs or been kissed. And I, like Charlie, latched onto things like sadness and crushes and books and English teachers. Of course I read it three times and dreamed of one day being rowdy and brazen and infinite. I was dying to be infinite, but nothing infinite ever seemed to happen to me.
There are still racefails all over the place - most notably the fact that the only prominent Black character in this part of the book is literally an animal and is frequently described as wild and animalistic. Totally not racist. The author also loves to remind the readers that Eden would be beautiful if only those Black people weren’t in/hadn’t taken charge.
Instead of writing more, I’m going to use this post to showcase excerpts from the book and reactions to them (in the form of gifs, of course).
Inside, Eden was never a Pearl. Sometimes at twilight, before she opened her eyes, before the damning critic in her head reminded her how ugly she was, she felt normal. Then she felt like the Real Eden. But how would Bramford feel when he looked in a mirror or when he saw the damming [sic] looks in others’ eyes? Maybe now he would know how it felt to be judged by your appearance.
His hand snaked forward and tore out her Life-Band earring. Eden screamed as her hand flew to the spot. How dare he? She felt more violated than if she’d been raped.
Rachel is not only one of the most thoughtful people I know when it comes to issues of privilege and marginalization, she is also super hilarious so you all need to follow her ASAP.
You heard James?” said Lupin, in a strange voice.
“Yeah …” Face dry, Harry looked up. “Why—you didn’t know my dad, did you?”
“I—I did, as a matter of fact,” said Lupin. “We were friends at Hogwarts.
we're screw-ups. I'm a screw-up and I plan to be a screw-up until my late 20s, maybe even my early 30s.
25-year-old east coast women's college graduate with a laptop and no original thoughts.