As I am reading snippets of Sylvia Plath’s journals — one day I will get my hands on that book and read it cover to cover! — I’ve come to the realisation that the people most attuned to the little things and pleasures are the people who are always fighting the darkness. Anthony Bourdain gives me the exact same vibe.
It’s this exact realisation that helps me make sense of my weird excitement for my birthday month and my overall enthusiasm for enjoying the little things — nothing brings me as much satisfaction as the smell of freshly cut grass, birds singing early in the morning, or the first snowflakes of the season (it snowed on my birthday). The darkness somehow amplifies them.
This year my resolution was to be more vulnerable and more open with my friends. I guess I half accomplished it. I still find it hard to open up and ask for help in the exact moment I need it, but making the Coffee Letters public helped me to show a part of myself I was keeping hidden. Don’t ask me why it’s easier to write instead of talking with my friends face to face, but ultimately the information gets to them and we move the discussion offline. So, thank you for reaching out, because I am still scared of vulnerability.
Depression has been a part of me for so long that I don’t even know how to talk about it. Same with the migraines now. It starts as a one-time thing and without realising it’s soon part of my personality. I know some find it weird how easily I shrug off my shoulders when they ask me about living with depression or chronic migraines. By now they are so deeply ingrained that it feels somewhat normal. (Should it?) As long as the darkness doesn’t get too dark and the migraines are not impairing my abilities. What’s the alternative?
I’m sorry. I wanted this letter to be about what a chill Monday I had — at work we get a day off for our birthday, and I took mine on Monday because it feels more like a present than a Thursday (my birthday was on Thursday) —, instead it turned into this.
My Monday was great. It started with a coffee with my dear neighbour (and wedding godparent), followed by a long bubble bath reading The Lying Life of Adults by Elena Ferrante (gonna tell you more about it in a second), a walk with my partner to enjoy the foggy weather (my favourite kind of weather), then some sushi and boba tea and a quick shopping session — I was looking for a keyboard and my husband bought me a book for my birthday (The Trouble with Being Born by Emil Cioran — quite fitting, and yes, it’s in English!), then in the evening, we roasted some chestnuts and I continued reading my book until late at night.
On my actual birthday I didn’t do anything particularly special for the actual birthday but I did participate in a very special and awesome book club, organised by my dear friend Bogdana, combined with a pasta making demo, where we each rolled our dough and then filled it with a pumpkin mixture. Afterwards Chef Mirco from Pasta e Basta Events cooked the pasta while we discussed The Lying Life of Adults by Elena Ferrante. There was wine and laughter and joy while we talked about teenage rebellions, emotionally unavailable intellectuals and family dramas.
What I love about book clubs and talking about books with others is that you can see how our own life experience influences how we perceive a book and, honestly, I just love the energy of a book club when you talk about a scene that touched you and someone across the table nods her head enthusiastically because she too felt the same, or when we move outside the story and someone opens up about their past or family and how the book was mirroring their experience. And, of course, when you discuss Ferrante you cannot not talk about Napoli — after listening to how passionately some girls talked about the city and its energy, I want to visit it! We even joked about a book club trip to Napoli, reading Ferrante’s Neapolitan Quartet on the road.
~ read
This week I read almost only books for the book clubs, but I regret nothing. I admit, though, maybe I had too many book clubs this month and it pains me a bit that I ignored Sally Rooney’s Intermezzo.
The Lying Life of Adults by Elena Ferrante. This book divided us into two groups: those who read the Neapolitan Quartet and couldn’t enjoy this book as much, and those who haven’t read it and loved this book. I am in the second category, having only read The Lost Daughter — which I also highly recommended, plus the film adaptation too!
The Lying Life of Adults is a coming-of-age novel following Giovanna who slowly uncovers her family’s history and drama after her father compared her face to her aunt’s, his sister whom he despises. This makes Giovanna wants to meet her aunt and see for herself if they really are alike.
Ferrante is a brilliant storyteller weaving together so many different characters and family issues and secrets in a way that I am convinced only she is capable of. It talks about class, religion and morality, about the façade we put up even for ourselves, about sexism and girlhood. I really liked it. I liked seeing Giovanna grow and discovering herself while trying to make sense of the adults around her. I just love teenage angst and Ferrante’s prose, which is full of shifts and the unexpected.
Cât de aproape sunt ploile reci by Bogdan Coşa. This book, guys, this book! I find it a bit strange to write about a Romanian book in English, but as I told someone recently, it’s just easier for me to express myself in English (my thoughts are in English, my dreams are in English, I don’t know why this language took over my life but it did). Anyway, this book! I fell in love with it after the first chapter or two. I remember I put it down and had to take a deep breath. Then I instantly told everyone I met that they have to read it and I wasn’t even done with it! (I have two work colleagues waiting to read this book!)
Bogdan Coşa’s novel follows three generations of the same family, originating from a small village in Ardeal. It’s written so brilliantly! It’s so realistic, yet it flows. It made me sad, but also nostalgic. The author sprinkles details that will bring the reader back to the 90s-early 2000s, in their grandmother’s house in the country: someone is reading Practic în Bucătărie, the grandma is wiping the muşama on the table, waiting for Busu on the TV, and so many other tiny details that are so ingrained in my childhood… It reminded me of my family on my father’s side and how when I was a kid spending my summers there was all about escapism, but now as an adult I can see things differently, I can understand it better…
It’s by no means an easy read, it’s raw and harsh and too f*cking real, but it’s a necessary read and it has little snippets of hope mixed in.
Between book club books, I also listened to an audiobook while doing chores around the house:
Horror for Weenies: Everything You Need to Know About the Films You're Too Scared to Watch by Emily C. Hughes. I am a weenie, ok? This is non-fiction book for people like me: the author talks about a bunch of horror films that have influenced the genre in one way or another — it tells you the full plot (it’s for weenies, guys!), but also why it’s relevant, horror tropes it uses, and even what to read if it’s still too scary to watch. I loved it!
I’ve seen some of films mentioned in this book — The Shining, Rosemary’s Baby, A Nightmare on Elm Street (first horror film I’ve ever seen), Get Out — but most of them I haven’t and I am still not sure I am brave enough to watch them. I appreciate this book as a film lover too, not just as a scaredy-cat — it gives you a lot of extra details and fun notes on each film and I think anyone who loves films or horror will enjoy it too.
I got scared while the author was narrating the plot of A Nightmare on Elm Street even though I already saw that film — in my defence, I was doing the dishes and my partner walked in on me and I haven’t heard him!
Currently I'm reading the last book for a book club this month: Teo de la 16 la 18 by Raluca Nagy. I am only 25% in; I am intrigued already and very into it — I was told I just have to get through the first pages of it, but I don’t think it took me that long. I will hopefully finish it tomorrow, which will leave me a week this month only for Intermezzo!
~ watch
I watched the first Christmas film of the season yesterday, but first let’s talk about a new confessional-type of documentary just released by Mubi.
Witches (2024), d. Elizabeth Sankey. This was a documentary that wasn’t exactly what I initially expected it to be — I know Sankey had another documentary on rom-coms, so I thought this would be similar, only this time exploring how witches are used in media. It kinda starts from there, but the subject of the documentary is actually postpartum psychosis. An important subject to discuss, a great feminist documentary, just not the feminist documentary I wanted.
I still enjoyed it tremendously, especially all the film history footage used, but also the hypothesis that maybe what started the trials of Salem (and other similar witches’ trials) was actually just women going through postpartum psychosis or depression. It’s not an easy documentary to watch, but we should definitely talk more about its subject.
8 Women/8 femmes (2002), d. François Ozon. First Christmas film of the season! A whodunit! Also a musical! A man is murdered and the suspects are the 8 women who were in the house. Many secrets are revealed as they are trying to solve the murder. The decor and costumes were delicious! And the acting is amazing — the entire cast won Best Actress at European Film Awards. It’s based on a play and the film keeps the theatrical feel — I love it when films do that. Naturally, I adored it.
As for what I am currently watching… well, I am on season 4 of The Office.
~ and other things I did last week
Food: This week I had some extra cauliflowers so I made Julia Child’s chou-fleur à la Mornay, gratiné (or basically cauliflower au gratin with cheese sauce). Every single time I make something from Julia Child’s Mastering the Art of French Cooking I remember how easy her recipes are, even though they seem complicated, and even better, how delicious they are! Also a Mornay sauce is basically a béchamel sauce with grated cheese added.
Other things consumed last week:
The twisted world of dark romance fiction (Mina Le, YouTube). Video essay. It’s not that much about specific dark romance books, but more about the things that lead to this new genre: she mainly talks about Twilight and Colleen Hoover, but she also mentions that article about college students who can’t read books, and if we should censor literature or not.
Elena Ferrante’s “The Lying Life of Adults” (Reading in Translation). Here you can find seven essays on Elena Ferrante’s The Lying Life of Adults written by literary critics, translators, and other people in a similar field.
A New Rallying Cry for the Irony-Poisoned Right (The New Yorker). An article on the scary things happening on the internet right now.
Paul Mescal interviews Ridley Scott: ‘I was so ahead of the game. The Oxbridge lot were aghast’ (The Guardian). I have yet to see Gladiator II but I read this cool interview.
I survived three book clubs last week and I managed to finish the books for all three of them! Now I have one more book club tomorrow, then another ballet — The Nutcracker!! It sounds like a lot, and in a way it was, however it was also a very good birthday month because I was present and careful with my intrusive thoughts. Not even the voting affected my mental wellbeing (although I'm angry, of course, and maybe a bit hopeless — I am writing this on Sunday evening so I don't know the results yet, not that I believe in any of the candidates this year, but there are some that scare me more than others).
Now I'm ready for the festive season. Thank you for reading!