Middlemarch

The other night I went to do a bit of Christmas shopping and found myself in a department store looking at one of those miniature villages. It was an elaborate display, each and every little figurine placed perfectly and lit to lend authenticity to the scene of what was touted as an English village, nineteenth [...]

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Dreams of My Russian Summers by Andreï Makine

There is a tune, for which I’d gladly part
With all Rossini, Weber, and Mozart,
An ancient air, whose languid melody
Has secret charms that speak only to me*…
We’ve all had them, those dreams whose intimations of life are so strong that we can see, smell, and embrace someone we love and long for just as they slip [...]

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