Tag: writing

  • The Bro Notes

    The Bro Notes, Reading The Brothers Karamazov: The Bro-ening, A Woman’s Journey is a year long journey to complete this classic novel by Fyodor Dostoevsky.

    Part 2 of 4: Good Bros/Bad Bros

    I’m really digging the bros.

    But do I dig Smerdyakov (who is technically a half-bro Karamazov)?

    No.

    This dislike is further reinforced by the publisher’s decision to crop the artwork ‘Detail from The Day Before the Exam (1895)’ by Leonid Ossipovitch Pastemak which originally depicts four men, and not three. Yes, Penguin. Cut that snake out.

    None of the brothers are infallible but I’m getting that this is one of the many gists of Dostoyevsky’s book. Nobody is entirely good. Even some monks that Alyosha lives with are a little bit of a dick sometimes. One whole chapter is dedicated to the stench of a dead monk and how some of his brothers believe that this means he wasn’t as holier than thou (He never was, I think that was just his rep).

    Alyosha is naive, but that inherently doesn’t make him good. Ivan is cold as ice but but he’s like more like glass.

    Concerning Dimitri, Alyosha says it best.

    “You’re not a wicked man, but a corrupted one,’ Alyosha smiled.

    But Smerdyakov? Naw. Non. Nyet.

    He’s just laying it all out there in the chapter with Ivan. This evil (subject to perception) bro’s plot is going to happen. But the chapter entitled “It’s Always Interesting to Talk to a Clever Man’ is so good. It’s very good, especially after ‘The Grand Inquisitor’, when Ivan’s just popping off on Alyosha. To see Ivan shatter a little under Smyrdakov’s blatant remarks is a little satisfying.

    I think this drives home the point home somewhat as not even the reader is infallible.

    I’m fixated a little on Smerdyakov because of this quote, also in part, a quote used for the title chapter:

    “So it’s true what they say, then: that it’s always interesting to talk to a clever man,” Smerdyakov answered resolutely, giving Ivan Fyodorovich a heartfelt glance.

    Heartfelt my ass.

  • Nothing at All by Olivia Tapiero, translated by Kit Schluter

    “It wasn’t a hatred of the other but a shame of oneself, and there’s nothing more dangerous than people who choke down their wounds.”

    Excerpt rom Penguin Website: “An atmospheric rumination on gendered violence, cosmic collapse, and colonialism, from acclaimed author Olivia Tapiero, finalist for the Governor General’s Literary Award, the Lambda Literary Awards, and the Grand Prix du livre de Montréal. Available for the first time in English, with an all-new foreword by Anne Boyer.”

    I’m a fan of the Strange Light books in general (they publish one of my favorite authors, Eugene Martin), so I tend to trust the books they publish or at least give them a chance.

    Happy to report that my trust remains intact.

    The author is really good at blending a feeling of starkness with luscious and smart wording that doesn’t cushion the reading experience. That little extra grime and/or edge, depending on the context rounds out the book quite well. Words like ‘fuckable fool’ or sentences like “I desired you to the point of contempt, cherished your flippancy to the point of eating the moldy compost that enables it.” were just real pleasures to read.

    The fragments of paragraphs made me feel like like I too was going to collapse in some black hole, with a cloying feeling that made me think I should start crawling to get out of the dark.

    The cover design, with art by the translator, is really beautiful and reflects the book tone perfectly. I also appreciate (love, very much love) a black page to divide chapters. I think it’s a great design choice, especially with the quotes that appear behind the chapter title pages with the same black paper/white font combo.

    The book published March 17, 2026 and I hope it gets as much traction as it can.