MISREADINGS: We Loved Our Lives More Than We Ever Knew | Lorrie Moore | A Gate at the Stairs Let me start with a confession. Lorrie Moore was a bandaid after my bedtime attempts and failures on reading and understanding Donna Tartt’s The Goldfinch, which absurdly became strings after strings of words I found ungraspable. So one night, accepting the truth it isn’t time yet to read her, I picked the highly acclaimed (as if Tartt isn’t) Lorrie Moore. Before I read her, she was that writer your writer friends or acquaintances have read (she’s my personal Haruki Murakami) and […]
It is hard, admittedly, to finish a creative nonfiction book. Perhaps because they are driven by emotions—often dominantly singular, negatively singular: hatred, loss, anger. These emotions wittingly, consciously creep into the reader and weigh her down with heaviness and sighs, rendering her helpless and boneless to the point that taking a break from the book is necessary. That is how I feel mostly with narratives detailing collective pain: diaspora, slavery, racial discrimination, corruption, death, violence, injustice. James Baldwin’s. Jamaica Kincaid’s. (And perhaps Joan Didion’s. No, I haven’t read the pile of Didions for the sheer reason that it is not the […]
“What time did you go to bed last night?” asked P, who is always concerned about my crazy sleeping habits, which he thinks detrimental to my health, health-conscious as he is. “Hmm. Four, I guess?” I answered. There is no point in lying because he could easily see them through my eyebags and constant yawns. “Reading?” “Yeah. Middlesex.” “Thought you didn’t like it.” “Yeah, I didn’t like the first five pages.”
BISLIG, SURIGAO DEL SUR, PHILIPPINES I. AFTERNOON WALKS I walked. I only had an hour break, but I decided to walk and risked being late at work. Mango Avenue changes every time I walk: two stores closed, another eatery/restaurant opened. Last month, a boutique opened. Daytime Mango means a few pedestrians, scarce street kids, less pretensions. I walked with a purpose: wedges, book, Sbarro. I walked to clear my mind. I walked to understand the reason we love.