Titlebook: Irish Elegies; Chris Arthur Book 2009 Palgrave Macmillan, a division of Nature America Inc. 2009 memory.object.writing.British and Irish L

會犯錯誤

The Willow Is Green, the Flower Is Red, accurately, with the kind of precision that seems to trace around the maze of its lineaments .—no stumbling, no hesitation, no digressing from what’s there, leaving behind a trail of words that mirrors its form so snugly you can’t see any chink of daylight between experience and expression. The nea

正常

(En)trance,ho undertakes complete stories, who engineers a beginning, works things through to an ending, and offers readers an experience of apparent wholeness. No matter what the subject, such tales encompass a territory in a manner that suggests it has been adequately covered by the time you leave it. There’

時間等

Rosary,utside the immediate orbit of whatever claims their attention, or if it’s an indication of a more individual lack of insight on my part, but the fact that adults have their own stories, that they too live lives of vivid hope and dread, was something that didn’t properly dawn on me for years. In retr

詼諧

On Not Being Who You Think You Are,ies that today are just life’s routine accoutrements, will acquire a patina of fascination as the years pile up upon them, laying down an increasing weight of time’s thickly invisible deposits. It’s as if this burgeoning temporal residue applies a transforming pressure as the years go by, or perhaps

nephritis

Bookmarks, they might have some mud from the spoil heaps. Puzzled by a request for what they considered waste material, the archaeologists asked why they wanted it. The monks replied that they planned to enshrine and venerate the mud in their monastery— because it came from the lowest level of the site and mi

使無效

中止

NATTY

Thirty-six Views, None of Mount Fuji,tions of it—on posters, cards, scarves, mugs, t-shirts, fridge-magnets, coasters, aprons, mouse-mats, and so on. This means that many people know at least one of the . .—even if they don’t know who drew them or that “The Great Wave” belongs to this series. Hokusai (1760–1849), Japan’s most famous ar

十字架

Falling Memory,actions that make remembrance possible. The way in which the past is stored in the incredible honeycomb of processes that is our brain, and how we retrieve from its labyrinths our pictures of all the time we’ve passed through, of every moment prior to this one, belongs to a language in which ordinar

藕床生厭倦