Thursday Retrospect

Belatedly, a collection of stuff that has amused/obsessed/infuriated me over the past 8 7 days.

  • Obsessed: Teenaged Bedrooms on tumblr. Tumblr could be the death of blogging, replacing the (virtual) journal with the (virtual) commonplace-book in, to me, a distinctly regressive and disappointing step. ION, I want to live in some or all of these rooms. Recently, when at home, I found a picture in which the 1990s had basically vomited on my walls. I can only bow before the trashy sixth form let-it-rot-then-laminate jewel-encrusted BEAUTY you see here. When I was seven I drew a picture of how I wanted to look at seventeen – enormous perm, sparkly earrings, a lot of denim and the wardrobe of a gothed-up Spice Girl. I thank Teenaged Bedrooms for going on to live that dream.
  • After seeing Frankenbatch at the National on Saturday, self and m’comrades were privileged to sit on a pigeon-beshat step opposite the South Bank’s branch of Eat. The following dialogue ensued:

ME: omg omg is that harriet walter THAT IS HARRIET WALTER oh my god OH MY GOD DON’T LOOK
them: where
ME: THERE she is THERE there THE ONE BEING HARRIET WALTER oh my god don’t look oh god she’s so BEAUTIFUL

Needless to say, the way in which Dame H. sat there, eating a salad and talking to some sort of unknown manchild REDEFINED the aforementioned acts of sitting, eating, and talking. If I am EVER FORCED into a situation where I have to make coherent remarks at her (and, god willing, it will only be once), I will die. Oscar Wilde slept on Lillie Langtry’s doorstep and tbh I would probably do the same, except no, that’s creepy. I didn’t speak to her. Just hyperventilated a bit, because saying “omg Clamorous Voices and Other People’s Shoes and  would you like to be in my DPhil, they should have made you a Dame years ago and what was it like being Harriet Vane?” would be much too much. Yes.

  • That was almost a neat segue into something else which made me wail this week, for INFINITELY LESS GRATIFYING reasons. Simon Thomas, author of Stuck In A Book and in any number of ways a normally decent human being, this week blogged the following piece of effluvia: Agatha vs Dorothy. Consequently, I lost all coherence and shrieked like a banshee when we met on the High Street. I don’t know what’s wrong with Simon. Sayers is interwar. She’s middlebrow. She’s a woman. This is basically the blueprint, believe me, for fiction which Simon likes. I’d rather have found out he ate babies.
  • In related news, while looking for a picture to illustrate the Walterspam, I found a blog: Dear Harriet Walter. I just want to assure the internet that I didn’t write it. Wow.
  • Chain Factor.
  • Kat Gupta answered some questions for me over at Mixosaurus. Thanks, Kat!
  • I have learned to use a cafetiere and thus drink coffee in the mornings. Can you tell?

Happy Friday, all!

7 thoughts on “Thursday Retrospect

  1. zwoelfchen

    I also want the internet to know that I, too, did not write “Dear Harriet Walter”.

    (Have you bought her new book yet? )


  2. clamorousvoice Post author

    That makes two of us, then! A part of me really loves and admires the bravery of it, but, my god. Weird and wonderful in equal measure. I started wondering if H Walter has ever SEEN/heard of it, but then started to pass out at the possibility.

    Surprisingly, not yet, but I do intend to!


    1. clamorousvoice Post author

      It’s amazing, isn’t it? But fatal to my productivity. I am so tempted to get a Tumblr…


  3. Pingback: The Occasional Retrospect | More Books, Please

  4. Pingback: The Occasional Retrospect | My CMS

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