Sackvillesque - CUT WITH THE KITCHEN KNIFE

I am starting uni on September 16th. I am scared, as I don't know anybody (all of my friends are going to other colleges, and studying things far more useful than literary studies and classics).

A couple months back I went on a tour of the humanities faculty building and it is absolutely beautiful, it looks like it could belong in a Donna Tartt novel, or a Shirley Jackson story: creepy, kind of unsettling, old, reminiscent of gothic architecture, beautiful.

I am excited, but also extremely confused, when I was building my timetable I realized none of my classes were on Fridays, and upon further research I found out there is no class on Fridays. I am confused about that.

Anyway, as I do every year before school starts, or, As I've done for the past three years, I will be re-reading The Secret History by Donna Tartt. I have had to buy a new copy because the one I've had since 2021 is so used the pages fall off. I am currently reading The Goldfinch, also by Donna Tartt.

Have a good academic year, lots of love,

Anna.

hello, first post!

i’m anais (real name)!! or annie :D

she/her ☆ infp 4w5 469 ☆ half white, half 🇨🇳🇵🇦!! ENG | 中文 ☆ late teens ☆ formerly @dearest-dada ☆ carrd

While I’d love to start an art history side blog, this is just my little corner of the internet for now.

I like a lot of things:

★ authors. . . katherine mansfield, franz kafka, françoise sagan, virginia woolf

★ shows. . . ghosts ✨, portrait of a marriage, hataraki man, world fool news (pls talk to me about world fool news)

★ fandom. . . US history, old hollywood, beatlegirls, athletic history, motivational vlogs lol

★ music. . . riot grrrl, vintage music, obscure classical

★ hobbies. . . playing tennis, drawing, going on wikipedia, staying up reallyyy late.

i randomly found this

i feel a little better now after doomscrolling on tumblr for an hour… look I’m learning new things

Fay M. Jackson (deceased)

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Bisexual

DOB: 8 May 1902 

RIP: 3 June 1979

Ethnicity: African American

Occupation: Journalist

Note: During the 1930s became the first Black Hollywood correspondent for the ANP. In 1938, she founded the Cinema League of Colored Peoples, to shape the representation of racial minority characters and stories in Hollywood films.

I don’t think some people realize this is a critique lmao. I love the description of the woman imagining she’s driving on the road it really highlights the fleeting/unstable feeling she’s trying to capture and how the generation’s youth finds comfort in it 😌

A woman drives fast along the California freeway with the radio screaming, delirious with grief. She does this every morning, dressing quickly in her Beverly Hills home so as to leave no time to think. Changing lanes is like a dance the way she's trained herself to do it, seamlessly and to the beat. She walks barefoot into gas stations, rinsing down pills with warm Coca-Cola and chatting mindlessly with the attendants. Her marriage is over. Her showbiz career is dead. Her child has been taken away. She is known to cry at parties or get carried home; close friends have come to believe she's insane. It is only on the freeway, when the music is loud, that she can forget what's become of her life. To fall asleep she imagines herself on the road: "The Hollywood to the San Bernardino and straight on out, past Barstow, past Baker, driving straight on into the hard white empty core of the world."

How chic the story sounds the way Joan Didion tells it in her 1970 novel Play It as It Lays. The woman is a trainwreck but a sharp and glamorous one, numbing out on pills as a critique of moral rot in 1960s Tinseltown. Books are great that way. Played out in real life in the year 2007, the tale loses its cool; now the woman is a punchline whose endless personal disasters keep a burgeoning new media economy afloat. It seemed that every week, or sometimes even every day, brought a hysterical new headline regarding the downward spiral of America's pop princess. ("HELP ME!" "INSANE!" "OUT OF CONTROL!") "We serialize Britney Spears. She's our President Bush," said TMZ founder Harvey Levin in a gruesome Rolling Stone cover story from early 2008, which began with Britney wailing in a San Fernando Valley shopping mall as a crowd closed around her with their Sidekick smartphones brandished. "I don't know who you think I am, bitch," 26-year-old Spears snarled to a shopgirl approaching for a photo. "But I'm not that person."

...

"Do you feel out of control in your life?" asks an interviewer off-screen in Britney: For the Record, the MTV documentary on Spears' "post-breakdown" life released at the end of 2008. That February, she had been placed against her will under the conservatorship of her father and former business manager, which would last for the next 13 years. "No, I don't feel it's out of control. I think it's too in control," Spears answers without pause. "There's no excitement. There's no passion. It's like Groundhog Day every day." The camera pulls in close as she wipes away her tears. "When did you last feel free?" the man asks later. "When I got to drive my car a lot," she wistfully replies. "I haven't been able to drive my car."

Meaghan Garvey, "Blackout Album Review"

why did the most fire art always evolve from this era

'the bubble,' clarence h. white, platinum print, 1898. printed 1905.

I watched this 3 times because I was trying to edit it in a funny style in like 9th grade 💀

Anna May Wong and Marlene Dietrich in “Shanghai Express” (1932)

“You glow like a perfumed lamp In the gathering shadows.”

— Wu Tsao, from For the Courtesan Ch’ing Lin; Women Poets of China (tr. by Kenneth Rexroth)  

R.I.P. Roberta Cleopatra Flack, Feb. 10, 1937 - Feb. 24, 2025🎍🎍🎍

A neighbor of John and Yoko at the Dakota, she also performed alongside them at the One to One concerts at Madison Square Garden in 1972🌻

The photo here was taken backstage at the 1975 Grammy Awards💐

Via Buskin with The Beatles FB🥀

nineteen eighty-four / twin peaks, "the path to the black lodge"

Fyodor Dostoevsky, tr. by Hugh Aplin, from "Poor People," originally written in 1846