The Irish novelist Sally Rooney is a normal person. Or so she is always insisting, often with a trace of defensive desperation.
Read MoreI have read Lolita differently at different times in my life. At first I read it flat-footedly, just as an object of dazzling beauty. I must have found it on my parents’ shelves, where I often foraged for reading on nights when I couldn’t sleep.
Read MoreIt couldn’t have happened the way I remember, because pain ought to contradict pleasure.
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