Bookish (and not so bookish) Thoughts

01. I did get to the German Film FestivalBalloon was brilliant. Tense, but brilliant (and I drove home feeling like the Stasi were following me). Hoping to get to at least one more Festival film. Continue reading

Bookish (and not so bookish) Thoughts

01. You know when the reading of one book prompts the reading of another? There was a passing reference to Florence Broadhurst in the book I just finished (Flesh Wounds by Richard Glover), which made me pull one of the most beautiful books I own off the shelf – Helen O’Neill’s biography, Florence Broadhurst: Her Secret & Extraordinary Lives. Continue reading

The Tattooist of Auschwitz by Heather Morris

There’s no shortage of Holocaust literature, and yet every so often one story rises to the top of the best-seller lists – why is one story more ‘appealing’ than another? I don’t know. Why does one story capture attention over others? I don’t know. The current critics’ favourite is The Tattooist of Auschwitz by Heather Morris.

Morris has recorded the true story of Lale Sokolov, a Slovakian Jew who was transported to Auschwitz-Birkenau in April 1942. When the guards at the camp discovered that Lale spoke several languages, he was put to work as a Tätowierer (tattooist), tasked with ‘numbering’ his fellow prisoners.

Day has become night, and still men line up to be numbered for life, be it short or long. Continue reading

Bookish (and not so bookish) Thoughts

01. I was lucky to see a production of my very favourite Shakespearean play last week – Twelfth Night. Frank Woodley was a stellar Sir Andrew (and that’s a large Melbourne Gin Co. gin, tonic and grapefruit next to my program, so obviously it was an ace night). Continue reading

Bookish (and not so bookish) Thoughts

01. Dragged the children to the MoMA exhibition this week. I didn’t take pics of my favourite pieces (too busy enjoying) – a Le Corbusier scale model of Villa Sayoye and a small Matisse canvas that was amazingly vibrant.

I watched the airport departures board included in the exhibition for ages – you don’t realise what you miss until you see it again… the soft whir of the board clicking over was deeply nostalgic. Continue reading