The Bloody Chamber

In line with the seasonal trend towards excess and indulgence, I chose to spend at least part of my Christmas reveling in the decadent literary splendour of Angela Carter's The Bloody Chamber. Here are a few adoring thoughts:

( Worshipful words... )

Sponsored serendipity

Thanks to a rather charming example of corporate largesse, I've been given a CD of a concert which took place in NYC in 2005 and which was sponsored by the Beloved Vendor.

I managed to get my hands on this because, according to C, someone else took one look at the play list, spotted the Romanian Folk Dances, and rejected the entire disc out of hand. I guess their contempt for Bartók is my gain, but still, some things are just plain, flat out, wrong no matter what the consequences...