I am reading Madame Bovary once more. I read it in high school, but I read it the way I read almost everything else in high school: hastily, lazily and superficially. I picked up a brilliant translation by Lydia Davis, and couldn't be more swept away. The attention to detail, and vivid portraiture of Madame and Monsieur Bovary, is just the kind of sumptuous literary world I was craving. The book also has me a little obsessed with the idea of the whole life imitating art imitating life thing... How many times has this relationship repeated itself over the course of history? And is it as predictable and tragic as Emma's story.
In tune, as always, Paris Review posted this Partial Inventory of Gustave Flaubert's Personal Effects.
I'm an LA transplant now living in Brooklyn. I develop film projects by day, write at night, and have a dangerous predilection for vintage Robinson Golluber scarves- this blog serves as a tiny window to everything else I do when I'm not satisfying those first three passions. I'm trying to blog more and tweet less @annabelleqv. What about you?