Alana Estelle

I reviewed the first half of The Greek Way by, Edith Hamilton in May. Because this book is dense with information, this post will cover the second half of the material. Last time I left off with the historian Herodotus and now I’ll pick up with Thucydides. As a historian, Thucydides felt it was important for history to be used for people to understand the past and not to repeat it. He believed that human nature does not change and is subject to make previous mistakes. 

“It will perhaps be found,” he writes, “that the absence of storytelling in my work makes it less attractive to listen to, but I shall be satisfied if it is considered useful by all who wish to know the plain truth of the events which happened and will according to human nature happen again in the same way. It was written not for the moment, but for all time.” 

Thucydides also discusses how power corrupts, which I found particularly interesting. He considered power to be  the ultimate evil, corruptor of men and details how detrimental it is to society as a whole. We have Thucydides to thanks for being one of the individuals who laid the groundwork for modern democracy.

Hamilton then ventures to Xenophon, another individual who’s thoughts were critical to the formation of democracies. The Ancient Greeks valued their freedom; the ability to act and think for oneself. For Xenophon, personal autonomy was crucial and Hamilton highlights how Athenian society promoted free thought. 

“There as no agency or institution to oppose his thinking in any way he chose on anything whatsoever.”

Take that fact checkers...

Xenophon also discusses what makes a good leader and expresses his view that a valued Athenian was invested in public affairs. Hamilton eloquently paints the picture of an ancient society that placed importance on both personal freedoms, as well as one’s duty to improve society for mankind as a whole. 

Hamilton then spends the next few chapters exploring the phenomenon of Ancient Greek tragedies and why they are so unique. She argues that, “Tragedy was a Greek creation because in Greece thought was free. Men were thinking more and more deeply about human life, and beginning to perceive more and more clearly that it was bound up with evil and that injustice was of the nature of things.”I won’t go into depth about everything she covers, because it’s just too much material, but in a nutshell, Hamilton discusses Aeschlyus, Sophocles, and Euripides - the great tragedians who have written some of the most iconic Greek tragic plays, such as Antigone, the Agamemnon, and Medea. 

While discussing the tragedies, there is one point in which I disagree with Hamilton. She compares Aeschylus to the book of Ezekiel in the Bible, which was written at around the same time. She states, “…the Jew was content with a “Thus saith the Lord,” an attitude that leaves no place for tragedy in the world. He could accept the irrational and rest in it serenely; the actual fact before him did not confront him inescapably as it did the Greek.”

The Bible is apart of a complete work, so isolating one book that seems to prove her point is pretty much confirmation bias, but let's briefly discuss the Old Testament, since that’s where the book of Ezekiel is found. I feel that Hamilton misinterpreted here - there are many instances in the Old Testament in which people were not passive and actively contended with God in tragic scenarios. David contended with God to spare his son that he had with a woman, who was married to another man, after he had her husband killed (His son was not spared. Can we say #soapopera). Hannah contended and pleaded with God to give her a child. She was bullied for being childless and she contended with God so passionately that someone thought she was drunk and God honored her request. Jacob literally wrestled with God and dislocated his hip. Moses initially told God that he did not want to go back to Egypt and face Pharaoh and lead the Hebrews because he was self-conscious about his stutter. So, God allowed his brother Aaron to help him speak. It’s not just, “Ok God, whatever you say as I blindly follow you.” No, that is actually contrary to the faith - “Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you: For every one that asketh receiveth; and he that seeketh.” This is a faith based on relationship, not a dictator ignoring the concerns of people who blindly follow and leave their own desires, concerns and heartaches at the door. These people had issues and in a lot of cases did their own thing anyway, even though they knew they shouldn’t. You want some saucy drama and a tragedy? Go read about David and Bathsheba. 

Ok, I’m off my soap box now. I think it’s a bit odd for her to try and compare Hebrew texts to Greek texts in this way, as these societies had completely different cultural and religious beliefs that shaped how they functioned and articulated themselves. It’s just a different type of tragedy and doesn’t mean one is superior to the other. 

Regardless, The Greek Way is a fantastic read and if you are seeking to dive into the Ancient Greeks and their literature but don’t know where to start, I would recommend starting here. Hamilton covers so many Ancient Greek writers and philosophers, that it will point you in the right direction. Pick the one that intrigues you the most and go from there. Also, if you’re like me and haven’t visited the Ancient Greeks in a long time and need a refresher, this is a great source to help you dust off your knowledge. It’s clear that Hamilton is passionate about Ancient Greece - her enthusiasm is infectious. Lastly, if you are interested in thoughts on free speech, democracy, and civil liberties, this is an insightful read, as it explores the foundations of these concepts.  

I thoroughly enjoyed this text and I made so many annotations. I know this will be a book that I will pick up a again and again to thumb through for little snippets of information. Highly, Highly recommend. 

Rating: 5/5. 

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This past weekend I was in Washington, D.C. for a few days. I was walking in Georgetown and a little bookstore caught my eye. The owner began to wave me inside and, as a book lover, I couldn’t resist. 

I was browsing around, not looking for anything in particular and hand invention of making a purchase - I actually do not impulse buy books (I don’t impulse buy anything for that matter….) Yes, I purchase a lot of books, but every addition is very calculated. If I come across a title I’m interested in, I research it. I’ll read spoiler-free reviews and if I’m intrigued, I’ll then look for the one edition I’d prefer to own. Even then, I may not immediately purchase the book. I’ll wait a while, often just for the sake of practicing self control. 

However, when I saw that this bookstore had And the Earth will Sit on the Moon, a collection of short stories by the infamous Russian author Nikolai Gogol, I knew needed to bring this little edition home with me. I haven’t read Gogol yet, but he is on my list and it’s actually rather tricky to come across Pushkin Press editions. I usually have to order them from the UK and even, used editions tend to retain retail prices. 

I’m so happy to own this little book and even though my reading list is constantly growing, I look forward to eventually reading it. Nevermind the fact that I also literally have 11 (I’m not joking) Tudor historical fiction novels sitting in various online carts waiting to be adopted by me. (Shhh, don’t tell...]). 

Do you impulsively buy books, or calculate your purchases? 

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Diptyque Fleur de Peau was released in 2018 and the scent was inspired by the mythological Greek love story between Psyche and Eros. One can guess that this scent will be a bit on the sensual side. 

• Top Notes: Aldehydes, Pink Pepper, Angelica, Bergamot
• Middle Notes: Iris, Turkish Rose
• Base Notes: Ambrette, Carrot, Ambergis, Leather, Sandalwood, Amberwood 

I would describe Fleur de Peau as a powder bomb, in the best way! This fragrance is soft, musky and a touch animalic (meaning skin-like, warm). This is not your grandmother’s powder perfume - this is a modern powdery scent that is more eclectic. As soon as I spray Fleur de Peau, I get “cosmetics from the 1980s” (yes, I know I just said this fragrance is modern, but bare with me…). This nostalgic opening quickly dissipates and turns into a more elegant powder - soft and clean as if you’ve just washed with a luxury soap that has a powdery scent hat lingers on the skin even after it’s been rinsed off - it sticks to the skin. The aldehydes then quickly come into play. Aldehydes are artificially formulated fragrance notes that can lean sweet and even a bit pungent. One of the most well known aldehydic fragrances is Chanel No. 5. Aldehydes can also provide a bit of “effervescence” to a fragrance. In Fleur de Peau, the aldehydes, combined with the bergamot and pink pepper, lends a “sparkling” quality to this fragrance that’s prevalent throughout - think of the fine carbonation in champagne and how it plays on the tongue. The middle florals are soft and delicate without smelling “old.” I am not a fan of fragrances that are heavily floral - I think they can be cloying and headache inducing. Here, they are balanced and the iris especially lends a slight soapy-quality to the fragrance. The base notes are trickier for me to isolate in this perfume, as they melt together to form a woody, musky, animalic, sensual base. It’s a touch heady and warm without being overpowering. I find that sandalwood can easily go wrong in a fragrance because it’s a strong, sweet woody scent, but here it is nicely balanced. The leather isn’t too much and doesn’t make this lean so masculine that most women would shy away from it. 

Fleur de Peau can be worn all year, depending on how much is applied. This is a warm, musky scent, so in the warmer weather use a lighter hand. In cooler weather, this will really shine because this is a scent that other people will smell on you, even from a slight distance. I can see this pairing perfectly with an ivory colored cashmere turtleneck sweater. 

And this allows me to nicely transition into discussing this fragrance’s sillage. Fleur de Peau definitely radiates from the body and leaves a trail behind you, so I would say sillage is medium-high, depending on application. One to two sprays is all you need because it lasts for hours - even after taking a shower, it lingers. I also think this scent is versatile, even though it is on the sensual side. Lightly spray it on clothing and the scent remains softer, lighter, cleaner more powdery and subdued making it perfect for the office. On my clothing, I get really the impression of really expensive, luxury fabric softener. Spray this directly on the skin, especially on the neck and this transforms into a scent that will turn heads. The warmth of your skin and your unique body chemistry really play up the musks, leather, and wood notes, perfect for an evening out,  casual or formal. 

As are most of Diptyque’s fragrances, Fleur de Peau is unisex. The base notes would appeal to a lot of men and the mild florals and soft powder would appear to a lot of women. This is a fragrance for people who aren’t afraid to draw attention to themselves with perfume. If you are attracted to scents that are alluring, sensual, a bit exotic, and “odd” then Fleur de Peau may pique your interest. Fleur de Peau, in my opinion does what niche fragrance houses do best - they take common fragrance notes and turn them into something unique. This perfume is mature without being old. I could not picture this on a young 20-something who is just starting out after they’ve just graduated from college, but rather more mature individual who exudes confidence, maturity and experience. This person is simply but exquisitely dressed, classic not trendy, and knows their own mind. They don’t have to speak much because their presence speaks for them.  If you have the body chemistry that can rock Chanel No., I think you can definitely wear this. They are not similar, but it’s the presence of the strong aldehydes in both - not everyone gets on with aldehydes, but those who do know how they play on the skin - Intoxicating. This is not a safe blind buy (I did blind buy this because I like to live dangerously…). I would recommend getting a sample if you are interested in how this may work with your body chemistry and play around with it. If you can pull Fleur de Peau off, then you’ve got an attention grabbing fragrance that will have people asking you “what are you wearing?” They may also try to get close to you…

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...it’s like looking at old photographs of yourself. There comes a point at which the record needs to be updated, because you’ve shed too many links with what you were.” 

Outline by, Rachel Cusk is really surprising me - I’m about 80 pages in and it’s constantly in my thoughts. I admit that I’m always a bit weary of poplar, contemporary releases. In today’s world of generic, overhyped reviews because people don’t want to be too critical, I’m skeptical. 

However, Outline is a pleasant surprise. I like Cusk’s dry, bare writing style. Even though there is a lot of passive voice in the narrative, because the writing is a bit sparse, it works because the passive voice isn’t being weighed down by overly flowery language. 

I really like how the unnamed narrator is slowly revealing her own story through the conversations she has with those around her. This is a story of a woman trying to make sense of her former life and the uncertain life that is now unfolding around her. What happens when the people and places in our lives shift and change? How is one’s identity tied up in these people and places in which one thought would be permanent? When those things change, there is a dissonance between the internal and the external and a tension between remaining in the past and moving towards an unknown future.

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Palladian by, Elizabeth Taylor is a Jane Eyre-esque novel. For those who don’t know, Jane Eyre is my favorite novel of all time and anything that is reminiscent of it in anyway, I want to read. Cassandra Dashwood (also an ode to Jane Austen with that name…) goes to Cropthorne Manor (get it? Thornhall…) after the death of her father to serve as a governess for Sophy. She quickly falls for her employer, the reserved and melancholy Mr. Marion Vanbrugh. The novel also explores the other dysfunctional characters, who are Marion’s relations.

Taylor does not hide that fact that Palladian is a retelling of Jane Eyre. “She knew the Jane Eyre had answered up better than that to her Mr. Rochester.” She uses this as an element in the story - it’s as if the reader is getting a novel within a novel, as Cassandra is aware that her life is paralleling Jane’s.

“Don’t you think truth is stranger than fiction, Miss Dashwood?” 

Taylor weaves this idea of truth versus fiction throughout the narrative and even though Cassandra’s life is much like Jane’s, there’s more realism in Cassandra’s story. Yes, life can seem unreal at times, but there is often a sense of disillusionment as if something is missing. Even though Cassandra falls in love with Marion, there is something “flat” about the development of this relationship.

“The scene somehow missed being quite so idyllic as it would have looked as the tail-piece of an old-fashioned love-story.” 

Palladian also reminded me of Rebecca by, Daphne du Maurier and I have a strong feeling Taylor read Rebecca, as Palladian was published in 1946, eight years after Rebecca. Marion is a widow, his wife Violet passed away several years ago. Her presence lingers in the house and her memory is idealized, painting a glorified  picture of Violet that may not be accurate. In Palladian, there is a lot of discussion about those who have passed away and how memory and nostalgia recreate the identities of former loved ones. 

“But soon, out of her bones will grow the new picture of her, more beautiful, more romantic… than ever in life, always loving, never angry, never guilty.”

“The dead cannot be answered back, the last word is always theirs.”

One thing that really stood out to me in this novel was the repeated references to the colors blue and green - it’s so obvious that it’s hard to ignore that Taylor uses these colors as symbolism fo something. I’ve been trying figure out what these colors represent, but it’s escaping me and I may have to eventually reread this novel for it to “click.”

“…the light that filtered in was greenish, so that the ceiling had a green pallor and the marble fireplace reflected green and the man who leant his elbow on the mantlepiece had the same greenish tinge upon his face and hands.”

Elizabeth Taylor’s writing style is difficult to describe; it’s descriptive yet simple. It’s not overly flowery but it is evocative. Her writing can be elusive and her characters can seem a bit cryptic. She gives  just enough for the reader to fill in the blanks. I don’t think it’s a bad thing that Taylor’s writing is illusive at times, it actually makes reading her interesting because there is a lot to unpack and even though this is a short novel, multiple reads would help to reveal subtle details that are easy to bypass. Also, she writes sentences like this:

Rating: 3.5/5. 

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Last March I posted about how I’m fascinated by the topic of adultery in literature, after reading Madam Bovary and Anna Karenina. As I said in that post, I’ll be circling back to this theme from time to time as it’s a topic that is rather common. The question that mainly came to mind was, “What is the difference between how men and women write about adultery? 

Since last spring, I’ve read quite a few books that either feature an adulterous relationship or briefly mention one. Here, I’ve selected four books that raise interesting questions. 

Stoner by, John Williams - Stoner’s marriage is a massive flop and he develops a relationship with a woman at the university in which they both work. Stoner’s life is incredibly melancholy and this brief relationship is one of his only moments of happiness. As a reader, I was incredibly sympathetic towards Stoner and this created an interesting internal tension between his infidelity and his need for someone who truly understands him. 

Someone at a Distance by, Dorothy Whipple - I adore Whipple’s writing and her novels I’ve read thus far. Someone at a Distance is from a wife’s perspective and how destructive adultery is to the family. Her husband is unfaithful to her with a young women and Whipple expertly writes how this family falls apart at the seams. As much as I really disliked what the husband did to this family, through his actions, Whipple made it so that I still wanted this family to work it out. Whipple’s novel also reminds one that no one is immune to situations like this - no matter how happy the family was initially. 

The Odyssey by, Homer- This is an interesting one, because Odysseus is being help captive, against his will, by Calypso. Odysseus longs to get back home to his wife and son, but Calypso’s desire for him technically results in unfaithfulness against his wife. It’s evident that Odysseus does not like being with Calypso and doesn’t have much choice in the matter; Homer gives us images go Odysseus crying and looking out at the sea. Can he really be blamed in this situation when he’s own free will is pretty much non-existent? 

The Weather in the Streets by, Rosamond Lehmann - I just reviewed this a book a few posts ago. Olivia Spencer and Rollo, who is married, begin an adulterous relationship and Lehmann excellently evokes a subtle sense of paranoia throughout the novel. Lehmann doesn’t make excuses for people’s behavior; she’s writing realistically about things that happen and the complexities of relationships and the consequences of the decisions that people make. Like with Stoner, I felt an internal tension because Olivia and Rollo work as a couple, but infidelity is infidelity, plain and simple. 

All of this being said, it continues to fascinate me how complex and interesting adultery in narratives can be. I have noticed that when women write about it, there is a heavier focus on the detriment it does to the family unit and how these women do their best to fight for their marriages. Lehmann’s character Olivia really portrays the emotional turmoil these types of relationship have, even on the mistress. In short, with women, one could argue a more significant focus on the domestic. One does not have to agree with a character’s action to sympathize. In Stoner, we see a man who is so utterly unhappy, in a way we can over look that he’s being unfaithful to his wife and we are more compelled to give him a “pass.” Actually in a lot of the novels focusing on the male, written by the male, the male is incredibly unhappy in his marine. Lehmann actually portrays this with Rollo very well. 

Have you noticed any interesting features in these types of narratives and a difference between how men and women write about them, beyond how narratives like Anna Karenina and Madam Bovary show the hypocrisy between how men and women are treated, who do the same thing. Do you ever feel a bit awkward for rooting for a character or a relationship that is morally wrong? 

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“I like what’s uncertain - what’s imperfect. I like what - what breaks out behind the features and is suddenly there and gone again.”

The Weather in the Streets by, Rosamond Lehmann is a novel about an adulterous relationship between Olivia Curtis and the married Rollo Spencer. Olivia and Rollo, childhood acquaintances, cross paths in adulthood and quickly pursue a relationship. Rosamond eloquently portrays the reality of leading a double life and the damage that adultery inflicts on the parties involved. 

The Weather in the Streets surprised me - I was hoping to enjoy it, as I hope to enjoy every book I pick up, but I really enjoyed this novel. It as a quick read for me, but that doesn’t mean that it was simple. Lehmann’s writing is poetic, descriptive, evocative. She will often meander from 3rd person to 1st person in the same paragraph and it’s so elegantly done, that I didn’t even realize what she was doing. The narrative is mainly from Olivia’s perspective, but glimpses into other character’s thoughts are included. 

As one could assume from the title, weather plays a significant role in the narrative. Lehmann is constantly describing the weather and uses this as a device to foreshadow immediate events to come. 

“The rain had stopped, the day was dark, grey, cold and gusty - one or two tattered blue holes blown into the sky for a moment, then over-blown again.”

“Two days later came the telegram - meet him in Oxford, the Mitre, one o’clock. It was Friday, hot and sunny.”

Throughout the book, the weather descriptions can be analyzed further beyond just foreshadowing a “good” or “bad” event. None of the descriptions are the same and if I wanted to, I could go back and link each subsequent event to an exact detail. This tactic could easily become cliche with a less skilled writer, but Lehmann pulls this off so beautifully, that it adds more depth to the narrative. 

I was also surprised to detect an existential undertone throughout the book. Many of the characters ask questions about the self, how the self is perceived by others, and the tension between the self and happiness. This adds to the concept in this novel that outward self is often at war with the internal self. Olivia and Rollo are operating under a facade to keep their relationship secret, but their decision to be dishonest wears on them internally. 

• The Self: “Tell me, Livia, do you ever feel as if you weren’t real?” “Often.” “It’s a beastly feeling. Everybody has a solid real life except oneself.”
• The Self & Others: “How do you know what you’ve done? It’s all in the mind of the beholder - We don’t know what we look like. We’re not just ourselves - we’re just a tiny nut of self, and the rest is a complicated mass of unknown quantities - according to who’s looking at us.”
• The Self & Happiness: “What do people mean about being happy, there’s so much talk about it, as if it was the one aim and motive - far from it; doesn’t affect anything, as far as I can see, it isn’t the desire for happiness that moves people to do what they do…”

However, Lehmann doesn’t just focus on Olivia and Rollo regarding people and the double lives they lead. She covers the facade of wealth, class, and perceived respectability. She also glosses over the concept of ethics and morality in relation to one’s profession. The most unlikely person often does unexpected things behind closed doors that would shock society. 

Lehmann does not glamorize adultery in any way. It’s very evident from the beginning that both Rollo and Olivia are at war with themselves for the decisions they’ve made, regardless of how much they try to justify their behavior. Lehmann is realistic about adultery and regardless of how unsavory of a topic it is, it’s a reality. 

“There was this inward double living under amourphous impacts of dark and light mixed: that was when we were together … not being together was a vacuum. It was an unborn place in the shadow of the time before and the time to come. It was remembering and looking forward, drawn out painfully both ways, taut like a bit of elastic … Wearing…” 

Lehmann writes about Olivia and Rollo’s relationship in such a way that I never lost sympathy for any of the characters involved, even if I didn’t necessarily agree with their decisions. Lehmann handles very sensitive topics so gracefully and really nailed both the fragility and beauty of relationships. 

Overall, I thoroughly enjoyed The Weather in the Streets. I didn’t want to put it down and before I was even halfway through the book, I was looking up her other novels. I hope to eventually read the rest of her work because her writing is stunning, her characters are complex and interesting and she’s willing to writing eloquently about topics that are “taboo”. After reading this novel, I don’t care what she’s written about, I’ll read it because her writing is that good. 

Rating: 4/5. 

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Diptyque Philosykos was released by the French niche fragrance house Diptyque, in 1996 and the scent was formulated to evoke the scent of fig trees in summer, in Greece. 

• Top Notes: Fig Leaf, Fig
• Middle Notes: Green Notes, Fig Tree Sap, Coconut
• Base Notes: Fig Tree, Woody notes, Cedar, black pepper 

I would describe Philosykos as fresh, clean, earthy, natural and realistic. This is a fresh fig scent, mildly fruity but by no means a citrus or a berry fragrance. This is a very “green” scent, evoking the entirety of the fig tree. As soon as I spray this, I get the bark, the leaves and the figs that are still hanging from the tree. This is not a sickeningly sweet, over-ripe, jammy fig, but a fig that has just been pulled from the tree and sliced. The coconut here is not the stereotypical Pina Coloda coconut note, or the coconut that is prevalent in some sunscreens. This coconut is quite natural, not extremely sweet, but rather creamy and milky. I find that this note mellows out the earthiness of the top notes and adds a touch of warmth. I’m not a huge fan of coconut in fragrances because I find it can easily lean artificial, or candy-like, but this coconut is smooth and pleasant - it’s present but it’s not over-powering. Lastly, the woody notes, black pepper and cedar really anchor this fragrance and give it some depth. It’s beings to peak through after the top and middle notes have settled. Cedar is one of my favorite fragrance notes because, when done properly, it’s clean and earthy, without smelling dirty. The cedar in Philosykos is just that, it’s woody but not over powering and a touch spicy, without being overly masculine. The black pepper here is fleeting, almost like an hallucination and it comes across more as a by-product of how the other notes have blended together rather than a black pepper note being added deliberately. 

Philosykos performs best during the hot summer months. It’s not an overpowering fragrance - there is something somewhat soft and light about it, almost airy. This will get lost in fall and winter, under layers of clothing. When I wear this fragrance on exposed skin, mainly my neck and décolletage, in the summer and the sun begins to warm up the surface of my skin, this fragrance transforms into something warm, sunny and comforting. It never gets stinky or cloying in the heat. Even if I perspire a bit in the summer, while wearing this fragrance, it continues to smell fresh. When I wore this to work one day, my coworker said, “You smell like Greece!” She meant this as a huge compliment. 

The village (how much a fragrance projects from your body) is low to moderate. This is not a fragrance that will fill a room and it’s not designed to be. This is like being outside and the when the wind blows, you start to catch hints of scents. People will tell you, “You smell nice” versus “Your perfume smells nice”. There is an important difference between the two. I also find the wear time of this fragrance to be moderate. A few sprays and I’m smelling it for a few hours, and then I want to top it up again. I don’t mind doing this - I find it refreshing and the perfect pick-me-up throughout the day. Philosykos comes in an Eau de Toilette formulation and an Eau de Parfum. I personally prefer the EDP because it has better longevity, sillage, and it’s more balanced. The EDT is even more “green” and “bright.” However, both are lovely and in the end, settle down the same. The EDT is actually the original formulation, the EDP was released later. The EDT is also more wallet-friendly, so if you want to test out a bottle, I’d opt for the EDT, 1.7 oz (50 ml). 

Philosykos is a unisex fragrance, as are most of Diptyque’s scents. I would recommend it for those who like clean, realistic fragrances that evoke the essence of a place, a space in time, or nostalgia. I would also recommend Philosykos for those who like spring and summer fragrances that deviate from the typical aquatics, florals, or citrus scents that are more standard during this time of year. This scent is interesting and even though it’s Diptyque’s top seller and is well known among the fragrance community, it’s not something that you’ll catch a whiff of on every other person. I saw a review from a woman that complained that this fragrance isn’t “feminine” - I have to disagree. We get stuck in the rut that “feminine” fragrances are sweet, fruity and floral - I find this very limiting. Wear what smells nice on you, regardless of who it’s marketed for. I find that Philosykos is neither feminine or masculine, it’s a fragrance that represents a specific place and it’s just aromatic and beautiful, much like how the scent of laundry detergent just smells good on everyone’s clothes. 

This is one of my favorite fragrances, easily in the top three. I just purchased my third bottle and I still can’t get enough of Philosykos. I will always have this fragrance in my collection and it’s the fragrance that also made me fall head-over-heels for Diptyque.

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We are entering the halfway point of 2021 - how did we get here? In a few months, it will be Autumn again (thankfully, because I loathe hot weather), but still, I feel like Christmas just happened. 

May was a very successful reading month for me. I was able to at least start every book that I put on my May TBR and I credit this to putting away my phone. I didn’t interact with as many IG posts as I usually do, but it so easy for 30 minutes or more to go by because of mechanical scrolling. May was also a busy work month and I find that when work ramps up, I’m more tempted to scroll on my phone because my brain feels “fried.” However, I combated this a bit (not always, but better than I have in the past), by first listening to something soothing before just jumping into a book. I find that if I’m too tense or wound up before sitting down to read, I can’t focus and end up reaching for my phone. 

That being said, June features some new books, as well as two that are rolling over. 

• A Legacy - Last Summer, my friend Julia and I read Middlemarch together and it was so much fun! We wanted to buddy read another book and decided on A Legacy - neither of us have read anything by Sybille Bedford, but if Nancy Mitford says it’s good, then it must be good. Who doesn’t love a good family drama?

• Young Anne - I’m a big fan of Dorothy Whipple’s writing and I wish she got more recognition. Young Anne is a coming of age story and I think I may be able to squeeze this one in at the end of the month and let it linger into July. 

• The Existentialist Cafe - (I saw this book on IG, I couldn’t resist and had to snag it immediately. I’m actually reading the physical copy in tandem with the audiobook because there are so many passages that I want annotate and I want be able to refer back to the hard copy whenever I’d like. I’m not very far in the book yet, but I’m enjoying it - it’s well written and makes phenomenology and existentialism easier to comprehend. 

• The Greek Way - this book is only 250-something pages long, but it’s taken me about two months to finish it. I’m at the end now. I didn’t expect this book to be one I’d want to really take my time with, but I’m enjoying it so much I decided to slow it down. I only need to read 5-10 pages at a time and then chew on it because Edith Hamilton packs so much into this slim volume. 

• Crime & Punishment - Another buddy ready with my friend Rebekah and slow burner. I started this in May and I’m not even 100 pages in yet. One doesn’t always needs to rush…

• Outline - I’ve been intrigued by Cusk’s Outline Trilogy for a while now. It seems like my cup of tea…

This is an ambitious stack, but I’m not going to make myself finish all of these books this month. What doesn’t get finished will roll over to the next month and so on. Perhaps I should start referring to my monthly reading lists as “monthly rotations”… 

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Do you gravitate towards retellings of classics? I have a difficult time resisting, even though I’ve been let down by some of them. I think its ambitious and difficult to take a beloved classic and then put a spin on the original - but I applaud authors who go for it because I think it take guts. 

Some authors will take the classic and retell it in simpler language, make it more comedic or add more context, which is what Stephen Fry has done with Mthyos, Heroes and Troy. I recently got my hands on these three and can’t wait to read them. There are so many Ancient Greek Mythology retellings, that it’s a bit overwhelming. I especially can’t seem to resist them! It’s no secret I’m fascinated by the Ancient Greeks and their mythology is so entertaining and nuanced that retellings of the same myths over and over again, never seem to get old. I also have Edith Hamilton’s Mythology and in her book she includes Norse Mythology (I also haven’t read this one yet, because… so many books and so little time). I’ve resisted Circe since it was published, but it’s constantly in the back of my mind, so I ordered it. Circe is a novel in which it seems that people either love it to hate it, which makes it even more appealing to me. I’m also particular curious about the Miller’s style - people have described it as “dry,” and a bit “sparse.” This makes me chuckle because I have a hunch she did this on purpose - this is exactly how the style of Ancient Greek literature is described. 

Retellings are challenging because they are reimagining works that are greatly loved. Often, the reader is seeking to experience how the original made them feel - they are seeking nostalgia. Retellings often focus on characters or narratives that may have been secondary in the original text, or tell the story from the perspective of another major character, whose point of view the reader did not get. How many times have authors retold Pride & Prejudice from Mr. Darcy’s perspective? 

Disappointment often occurs with retellings because the reader states the author “Got is wrong!” “Misinterpreted the text!” “The original author would have NEVER done this!?” I have personally said all of these things, however I don’t think this is a bad thing - you know how the saying goes, “No two people ever read the same book.” In a way, when an author decides to retell a well-know story, it’s their interpretation and that doesn’t mean that their interpretation is wrong. I read an interpretation of Pride & Prejudice that I really did not like, but again, it’s a work of fiction and the author can do whatever they like - I don’t have to like it and what didn’t work for me, may work for someone else and vice versa. 

Either way, I enjoy retellings because they force me to think about the original text from a new perspective, regardless of if I end up liking it or not, it’s always fun to engage with a classic narrative in a fresh way. It also reminds me not to always take reading so seriously - just sit back, enjoy the story and relax. When I want the original, I can always have a reread. 

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These books have something in common - they all have buildings that can also be considered characters. These places are so atmospheric, or referred to so often, that they play a pivotal role in setting the mood of the entire story. 

Jane Eyre, Jamaica Inn and Rebecca are predominately set in these old, dark, gothic buildings or estates that seem to breathe. The halls creak, the walls feel as if they are watching you and you never know what is lurking around the corner. The main characters also interact with these places as if they are a person. For example, Jane Eyre forms such an attachment to Thornfield Hall that she grows to love the place and what it represents, even though there’s something “off” that she can’t quite put her finger on. Manderly, is permeated with the essence of Rebecca, Mr. de Winter’s dead wife, and it seems as if the whole estate is Rebecca. In Jamaica Inn (probably the creepiest in this line up), the Inn is so desolate, dark, cold and dreary that the building seems to be an extension of Mary Yellan’s sketchy uncle. I love it when an author does this - it creates more depth to the narrative. 

Howards End, The House at Riverton and The Priory feature family estates that help to evoke a sense of nostalgia in the story. The characters refer back to these places as something constant and comforting, in the midst of uncertainty and chaos. Yet, at the same time, the subtle changes in the physical homes that take place over time also remind them that change is inevitable, regardless of how much one tries to hold on to a past that was seemingly less complicated and more care-free. This really makes me think back to childhood and how we tend to attached strong feelings towards a place because it is associated with happy childhood memories, yet when we revisit them in adulthood we feel a bit let down, “Was it always so small?” “It seems to be falling apart now…” “Remember when we played hide-in-seek over there?” One becomes wistful, reminiscent, and even a bit pensive.

Are there and books you can think of that also use this device, in which a building can be seen as an active character in a narrative? Is there a place from you childhood that evokes strong memories and feelings?

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