Charlotte Reads Classics

Slowly, slowly, she sipped a sentence.

Agnes Rackham’s bedroom, whose windows are never opened and whose door is always closed, fills up every night with her breath. One by one, her exhalations trickle off her pillow onto the floor; then, breath by breath, they rise, piling on top of each other like invisible feathers, until they’re nestling against the ceiling, growing denser by the hour.
Michel Faber, The Crimson Petal and the White

The Green Man

The Green Man, Kingsley Amis

Hate it. Properly hate it. Give it twenty years and I don’t think even Lucky Jim will keep Kingsley Amis on any reading list. This book is so outdated, it is a chore to read. The most feebly attempted ‘ghost story’ of all time: Misogynistic, alcoholic, unpleasant.