52 Authors
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Gillian Allnutt is a contemporary English poet whose work I have admired for the better part of fifteen years. If someone asked me — which, to date, nobody has — to describe her poetry, the words that might come to mind are not mine, but Hopkins’: “counter, original, spare, strange.” Frankly, I’m a sucker for
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I received two beautiful hardback copies of Little House in the Big Woods and Little House on the Prairie for Christmas, 1967. I would have been just short of my eighth birthday. I loved these books, with their beautiful illustrations. Over the next three years, I read the rest of Laura Ingalls Wilder’s series: seven
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Since no one else has submitted anything for this week, I'm assembling this from several blog posts on Elizabeth Goudge that I did over a period of a couple of years beginning in 2009, when Janet Cupo introduced me to her, for which I am very grateful. Elizabeth Goudge (1900-1984) should have been an Inkling.
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Penelope Fitzgerald (1916–2000) started her writing career rather late in life at the age of 58, shortly before her husband died. She was a member of the very accomplished Knox family, which included her father, who was the editor of Punch, and his three brothers, one of whom was the famous convert to Roman Catholicism,
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Update: someone has come through with a nice piece, and I may be able to post it Monday night. Most likely not before then. I'll let the name of the author be a surprise. — There's nobody on the roster for the upcoming week. I'm going to be out of town Friday through Monday and
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Etienne Gilson (1884-1978) was a Christian philosopher. Between the publication of his PhD thesis in 1909 and his last works of philosophy in the late 1960s, he helped to create genuine historical research in Mediaeval philosophy and theology, he wrote dozens of sparkling works of history and of philosophy, and he pugnaciously championed the influence
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(T.S. Eliot's first importance is as a poet, but he is also a major figure in criticism, and a significant, possibly under-rated, one in cultural and social commentary. I'm only going to consider the poetry here, and that excluding the plays, for the simple reason that I haven't read any of them except Murder in
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I was never shot down into Occupied France. But in my distant R.A.F. days, I was carefully briefed about what I was to do in that event; and it struck me at the time that my situation then would be closely analogous to what 'being a Catholic' means … But it's a bad metaphor in
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I don't have anybody on the schedule but maybe I just forgot to update it. If no one else has anything, I think I'll go ahead and do Eliot. I had sort of intended to read some of his prose that I've either never read or only read once long ago, but I could do
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[Editor's note: most people reading this blog have probably read A Wrinkle In Time, but in case you haven't, be aware that this contains spoilers.] I’m guessing Madeleine L’Engle was a loosey-goosey Episcopalian. This may be to misjudge her. It is a guess which is largely based on the way her novels border on depicting
Light On Dark Water 