Eggplant.place

189d

150 years of the bizarre Hans Christian Andersen

His oddball stories were driven by his outsider status and strange appearance.

By Frances Wilson

https://www.newstatesman.com/culture/books/book-of-the-day/2025/07/150-years-of-the-bizarre-hans-christian-andersen

Hans Christian Andersen at PG:
https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/author/2298

#Books #Literature #literarycriticism

Portrait of Andersen by Franz Hanfstaengl, dated July 1860.

His long, expressive face, prominent nose, and deep-set eyes are rendered with sensitivity. Andersen’s gaze is directed slightly away from the viewer.

He wears a dark jacket with a scarf wrapped around his neck. He is sitting in a high-backed chair, with a pen in his right hand and his left arm resting on the arm of the chair, holding a few sheets of paper. On the left-hand side of the portrait, a long curtain forms part of the scene.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hans_Christian_Andersen#/media/File:Hans_Christian_Andersen_2.jpg

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192d

Call for papers:
(Un)natural Stevenson: Wild transgressions across literature, ecology, science & gender
Ca’ Foscari University of Venice, 11–12 May 2026

This conference aims to explore the concept of nature/natural in Robert Louis Stevenson’s work, & to investigate Stevenson both as a writer of dichotomies/dualisms & of their wild transgressions

@litstudies

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1EoselkYayxzSXzW36aDZTbZv_SQt8cCG/

#Scottish #literature #19thcentury #Victorian #RobertLouisStevenson #LiteraryStudies #ecology #science #gender

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192d

ALT Book Fringe 2025
4–29 August, Edinburgh

Entirely run & curated by three of Scotland’s leading indie bookshops – Argonaut Books, Lighthouse – Edinburgh’s Radical Bookshop, & Typewronger – ALT Book Fringe is a free, alternative August literary festival

https://www.lighthousebookshop.com/events/book-fringe-2025-alt-edition-returns

#Scottish #literature #Edinburgh #books #bookfestival

Save the Date
August 2025
Book Fringe
Argonaut
Lighthouse
Typewronger

A dynamic, inclusive, alternative, community-led book festival

ALT

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189d

Robert Burns’s POEMS, CHIEFLY IN THE SCOTTISH DIALECT was published #OTD, 31 July 1786.

Copies are 3 times rarer than the Shakespeare First Folio: Patrick Scott & Allan Young are tracking the histories of surviving Kilmarnock Editions

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https://www.thebottleimp.org.uk/2017/11/kilmarnock-burns-book-history/

#Scottish #literature #poetry #RobertBurns #Scots #Scotslanguage #18thcentury #BookHistory #RareBooks

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190d

Was The Importance of Being Earnest the most scandalous opening run of all time? How Oscar Wilde’s greatest play kicked off his tragic fall from grace

By Ben Jureidini

https://www.tatler.com/article/the-importance-of-being-earnest-opening-run-scandal

The Importance of Being Earnest at PG:
https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/844

#Books #Literature #Theatre

Jack (George Alexander) tells Gwendolen (Irene Vanbrugh) the address of his country house, while Algernon (Allan Aynesworth) secretly overhears.

Alfred Ellis - The Sketch, p. 412

Scene in Act I of The Importance of Being Earnest, original production

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Importance_of_Being_Earnest#/media/File:Importance-Act-1-Jack-Gwendolen-Algernon.png

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216d

It’s the cocktail hour. The air is still.
Mister gets busy on the charcoal grill.
Social-kissing women, backslapping men
has failed to break the ice. But then
Missiz appears like magic from the dusk.
Cool, ten years his junior, she smells of musk
and ‘Madame Rochas’. Two small spots of anger
high on her cheekbones linger…

—Liz Lochhead, “Fourth of July Fireworks”

Published in THREE SCOTTISH POETS, @canongatebooks 1992

#Scottish #literature #poem #poetry #4thofJuly #FourthofJuly

Fourth of July Fireworks
by Liz Lochhead

The guests are gathered.
Boston-Irish Nancy, half in huff
says, ‘Better help yourselves,
you all know Mister’s timing well enough.’
Aside at me she mutters.
‘Millionaires can afford to let things wait.
Honest-to-God Mister would be late
for his own funeral.’ Cigarstore Indian,
I hide behind my apron, wait and drink in all I can.

(We don’t exist. They pick our trays,
Tom Collinses, Martinis and canapés.)

Oh horror, New England night,
when I fetched the ice down and that snake
looped my feet in the kitchen garden! I still shake.
‘Harmless,’ says Nancy.
I hear her hiss, ‘Some host!
That beggar’ll only get here when he’s sure he’s last.’

Fourth of July. Cape Cod. Dead on cue,
last-man Mister comes running to his barbecue.
Arms flailing like a cricketer’s across the lawn
from his ‘so English’ house with a flame red shirt on.

It’s the cocktail hour. The air is still.
Mister gets busy on the charcoal grill.
Social-kissing women, backslapping men
has failed to break the ice. But then
Missiz appears like magic from the dusk.
Cool, ten years his junior, she smells of musk

ALT

and ‘Madame Rochas’. Two small spots of anger
high on her cheekbones linger.

When Mister says it’s done enough
the guests spread ketchup on the fatted calf.
The night hots up. Liquor flows. Listless
couples come alive. A bit apart, restless,
Missiz sways gently on her own
to Glen Miller on the gramophone.
All eyes are on the soignee cling
of this year’s leisure favourite, velvety stretch towelling
for patio-party wear. Those purples and electric pinks
‘Just far too hectic altogether,’ Nancy thinks.

(Ten years with Missiz, Nancy’s face
is quite professional, impervious.)

Ice melts in the Martini tray. Midges
drown. The whole night edges
to a thunderstorm. Maybugs big as golfballs thud
as screendoors bounce them. But, after our blood,
divebombing mosquitoes dodge the mesh and slide
in down their own thin whine.
They bite despite insecticide.

All at sea,
white and dayglo orange fins spinnaker the bay.
Music blares
from the jazzed-up clubhouse round the Cape, Cotuit way.
The whole damn town is two thirds empty after Labour Day.
These summer people
migrate to Florida, lock, stock and barrel.
Tonight their parked cars sprawl the drive and trail

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behind those his-and-hers coupled custom Cadillacs
like a comet tail.

(Oh I can see it all quite clearly, feeling small
and stone-cold sober. But I do not count at all.)

Out on the lawn the sprinklers, oddly luminous,
sputter like Roman Candles, ominous
as the sudden snap of queer clear light
from one weird streak unzips the dark.
The German Shepherd guard dogs bark.
A wind gets up. These beach-house boards
are flimsier than playing cards.

(Over the bay, like flares
odd rockets go up with a shock of stars.)

Mister drags off his box of fireworks to the shore.
Missiz drains her drink and hits the floor
with someone half her age. His snake-arms slur
around her waist. Eyes glaze. Sentence endings blur.
Missiz (‘mutton dressed as lamb’)
comes in slowly as the false-calm
lead-slow sea that slicks the beach. Sinatra sings.
The tide ravels up slowly, shelving things.

Raindrops big as bullets dent the roof we all stand under,
watching Canute’s fireworks outrage the storm,
try to steal its thunder.

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191d

Whatever Happened to London’s “Little America”?

Since the time of John Adams, the first US Ambassador to the Court of St. James, Grosvenor Square has been the locus of the American government in Britain.

By: Matthew Wills

https://daily.jstor.org/whatever-happened-to-londons-little-america/

John Adams at PG:
https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/author/4660

#Books #Literature #history

John Adams Portrait.

John Adams is shown in a three-quarter view against a muted, warm-toned background. His expression is serious yet composed—marked by a furrowed brow, steady gaze, and slightly parted lips. His white, powdered hair and plain black coat with a high cravat reinforce his image as a man of intellect.

Gilbert Stuart - National Gallery of Art, Washington, D. C., online collection

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Adams#/media/File:John_Adams_Portrait.jpg

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191d

Reading deeper into Virginia Woolf’s vicious diary entry

Maggie Humm says the author’s recollection of encountering a group of learning-disabled people is surely a defence mechanism and projection

https://www.theguardian.com/books/2025/jul/27/reading-deeper-into-virginia-woolfs-vicious-diary-entry

Virginia Woolf at PG:
https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/author/89

#Books #Literature #Biography

Photograph of Virginia Woolf with hand on face wearing a fur stole (10 x 15 centimeters).

This particular photograph is simply described as "Woolf Virginia [1927]". The verso of the photograph bears no mention allowing an identification of the photographer, but simply indicates - faintly pencilled - the portrait has been made in London.

The photograph was, according to the Smith College Library's web site, "used for promotion" by Harcourt Brace, the publisher of the American version of To the Lighthouse in 1927. In Virginia Woolf Icon (University of Chicago Press, 1999), Brenda Silver describes the photograph as an "(unidentified) studio photograph" and comments it "appear[ed] in in an number of Harcourt Brace ads and articles about Woolf and/or her works in the States during the late 1920s ans the 1930s" (p. 132).

It was in particular published with no copyright notice in a review of the book published by The New York Times on May 8, 1927 and another review published by The Bookshelf Review in June 1927. The photograph was exhibited in the show Virginia Woolf: Art, Life and Vision at the National Portrait Gallery in London in 2014 with the following caption : "by Unknown photographer, 1927. Courtesy of the Mortimer Rare Book Room, Neilson Library, Smith College, Northampton, Massachusetts".

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Virginia_Woolf#/media/File:Virginia_Woolf_1927.jpg

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216d

Scottish Scholars & Secrets: Developments of Dark Academia in Edinburgh – from 24 June 2025

Natasha Anderson finds roots of Dark Academia running through Edinburgh’s gothic literary traditions, in works by Robert Louis Stevenson, Muriel Spark, & Ian Rankin

@litstudies

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ahpagiSHK78

#Scottish #literature #gothic #Edinburgh #DarkAcademia #RobertLouisStevenson #MurielSpark #IanRankin

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192d

For years I wandered hill and moor
Half looking for the road
Winding into fairyland
Where that blacksmith kept a forge

Who’d heat red hot the dragging links
That bound me to the past…

—Kathleen Jamie, “The Tradition”
published in THE BONNIEST COMPANIE (Picador, 2015)

https://www.panmacmillan.com/authors/kathleen-jamie/the-bonniest-companie/9781509801718

#Scottish #literature #poem #poetry

Kathleen Jamie
The Tradition

For years I wandered hill and moor
Half looking for the road
Winding into fairyland
Where that blacksmith kept a forge

Who’d heat red hot the dragging links
That bound me to the past,
Then, with one almighty hammer-blow
Unfetter me at last.

Older now, I know nor fee
Nor anvil breaks those chains
And the wild ways we think we walk
Just bring us here again.

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191d

We needed it—and he stood there,
feet on the dry porch, saying rain,
cloud and skyful, the sound of drumming…

—Niall Campbell, “The Rainmaker”
from POETRY, July/August 2020

We probably don’t appreciate the rain here in Scotland as much as we should…

Today, 29 July, is World Rain Day 🌧️

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https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/poems/153822/the-rainmaker

#Scottish #literature #poem #poetry #rain #WorldRainDay

The Rainmaker
by Niall Campbell

We needed it—and he stood there,
feet on the dry porch, saying rain,
cloud and skyful, the sound of drumming;

the bath trough in the garden listened,
white and bone dry, as he described
a bright wash across the dust fields,

the surest downpour, the flushed skin,
my soaked shirt, heavy as a bell.
Then off he went to the scorched fields,

humming, and weighing what we paid.
What did he say: prayer is moisture;
hope is a well—I didn’t care,

I wanted just the words from him—
what I couldn’t dare say—not there
beneath that sun, that blur of fire-sky.

My thoughts all thoughts of water, I
spun my head round—to hear the spill
of the word rain across the boards,

and nothing grew dark, nothing fell—
but something fell, and the ground took,
and something wild as garlic grew.

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191d

The latest issue of NORTHWORDS NOW (#46, Summer–Autumn 2025) is available free online – featuring poems, short stories, articles & book reviews, in English, Gaelic & Scots

New writing, fresh from Scotland and the wider North
Sgrìobhadh ùr à Alba agus an Àird a Tuath

https://www.northwordsnow.co.uk/Issue46

#Scottish #literature #poetry #shortstories #shortfiction #Scots #Scotslanguage #Gaelic #Gaidhlig

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190d

“The plotless beauty of his writing, and its fearless look at the emptiness of his own life, put ‘the Scottish Beat’ on a par with Kafka and Camus.”

—Tony O’Neill on “The junky genius of Alexander Trocchi (1925–1984)”, born 100 years ago #OTD, 30 July – a 🎂 🧵

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https://www.theguardian.com/books/booksblog/2007/aug/23/thejunkygeniusofalexander

#Scottish #literature #20thcentury #Trocchi

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190d

We who loved sincerely; we who loved sae fiercely.
The snow ne’er looked sae barrie,
Nor the winter trees sae pretty.
C’mon, c’mon my dearie – tak my hand, my fiere!

—Jackie Kay, “Fiere”
fron FIERE (Picador 2011)

30 July is International Friendship Day 🤝

https://www.scottishpoetrylibrary.org.uk/poem/fiere/

#Scottish #literature #poem #poetry #friend #friends #friendship #InternationalFriendshipDay

Fiere
Jackie Kay

If ye went tae the tapmost hill, fiere
whaur we used tae clamb as girls,
ye’d see the snow the day, fiere,
settling on the hills.
You’d mind o’ anither day, mibbe,
we ran doon the hill in the snow,
sliding and singing oor way tae the foot,
lassies laughing thegither – how braw,
the years slipping awa; oot in the weather.

And noo we’re suddenly auld, fiere,
oor friendship’s ne’er been weary.
We’ve aye seen the wurld differently.
Whaur would I hae been weyoot my jo,
my fiere, my fiercy, my dearie O?
Oor hair micht be silver noo,
oor walk a wee bit doddery,
but we’ve had a whirl and a blast, girl,
thru the cauld blast winter, thru spring, summer.

O’er a lifetime, my fiere, my bonnie lassie,
I’d defend you – you, me; blithe and blatter,
here we gang doon the hill, nae matter,
past the bracken, bonny braes, barley,
oot by the roaring sea, still havin a blether.
We who loved sincerely; we who loved sae fiercely,
the snow ne’er looked sae barrie,
nor the winter trees sae pretty.
C’mon, c’mon my dearie – tak my hand, my fiere!

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190d

A bird’s voice chinks and tinkles
Alone in the gaunt reedbed –
Tiny silversmith
Working late in the evening…

—Norman MacCaig, “July evening”
published in THE POEMS OF NORMAN MacCAIG (Birlinn, 2009)

https://birlinn.co.uk/product/the-poems-of-norman-maccaig/

#Scottish #literature #poetry #poem #NormanMacCaig

July evening
Norman MacCaig

A bird’s voice chinks and tinkles
Alone in the gaunt reedbed –
Tiny silversmith
Working late in the evening.

I sit and listen. The rooftop
With a quill of smoke stuck in it
Wavers against the sky
In the dreamy heat of summer.

Flowers’ closing time: bee lurches
Across the hayfield, singing
And feeling its drunken way
Round the air’s invisible corners.

And grass is grace. And charlock
Is gold of its own bounty.
The broken chair by the wall
Is one with immortal landscapes.

Something has been completed
That everything is part of,
Something that will go on
Being completed forever.

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215d

Hear Albert Camus’ Grateful Letter to His Teacher After Winning the Nobel Prize

In 1924, two decades before the publication of The Stranger, author Albert Camus was a boy growing up in poverty in Algeria. Noticing his potential, a teacher named Louis Germain took him under his wing, even giving him free lessons to help him secure a scholarship.

By Regina Sienra

https://mymodernmet.com/albert-camus-letter-teacher/?

#Books #Literature

Albert Camus, Nobel prize winner, half-length portrait, seated at desk, facing left, smoking cigarette.

https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Albert_Camus,_gagnant_de_prix_Nobel,_portrait_en_buste,_pos%C3%A9_au_bureau,_faisant_face_%C3%A0_gauche,_cigarette_de_tabagisme.jpg

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215d

July. Summer on the island
muffles in scarves.
Merino-socked, Berghaus-booted,
swap cocoon of car
for hilly slither. Pilgrim-trail
with sodden strangers,
step in time to the cadence of rain…

—Nikki Robson, “The Callanish Stones”
published in Other Worlds: An Anthology of Scottish Island Poems (Birlinn, 2022)

https://birlinn.co.uk/2022/06/20/poem-of-the-week-the-callanish-stones-by-nikki-robson/

#Scottish #literature #poem #poetry #Hebrides #Lewis #Callanish #StandingStones #tourism

The Callanish Stones
Nikki Robson

July. Summer on the island
muffles in scarves.
Merino-socked, Berghaus-booted,
swap cocoon of car
for hilly slither. Pilgrim-trail
with sodden strangers,
step in time to the cadence of rain.
White-trainered Americans patter: there isn’t a bus,
Earl, I can’t believe there isn’t a bus.
Even taped seams leak. Cold as
Lewisian gneiss, circle
the circle of Neolithic ritual.
Reach out, for Callanish grants
what Stonehenge forbids:
it feels like wet stone.
On the downhill squelch,
the final syllable’s a sneeze.
I buy a fridge magnet.

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215d

Neil deGrasse Tyson Lists 8 (Free) Books Every Intelligent Person Should Read

https://www.openculture.com/2025/07/neil-degrasse-tyson-lists-8-free-books-every-intelligent-person-should-read.html

Many of these are at PG.

Illustration from Gulliver Travels at PG

https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/17157/pg17157-images.html

#books #literature

Caption says: "HE COMMANDED HIS GENERALS TO DRAW UP THE TROOPS."

Drawing shows a giant (Gulliver) looking down at a tiny army.

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187d

Collecting The Most Beautiful Books
22 Aug, Mount Stuart House, Rothesay – £8.50–£11

Kelsey Jackson Williams will explore armorial bookbindings in the Bute Collection & tell how aristocratic pride, the bookbinders' art, & subsequent tastes in collecting came together to form an exceptional but unknown assemblage of book-art in the Mount Stuart libraries.

https://www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/collecting-the-most-beautiful-books-august-talk-tickets-1529153030879

#Scottish #literature #books #bookbinding #bookhistory #Bute #Rothesay

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186d

The hill is tossing high, frail wisps of
rosy cloud to glide in steady gale
along a turquoise sky, around, above the
perpendicular and slightly askew columns,
above the triangular gap
between crown and crag…

—Tessa Ransford, “August 3rd”
published in Shadows from the Greater Hill (Ramsay Head Press, 1987)

https://www.scottishpoetrylibrary.org.uk/poem/august-3rd/

#Scottish #literature #poem #poetry #naturepoem #naturewriting

August 3rd
Tessa Ransford

The hill is tossing high, frail wisps of
rosy cloud to glide in steady gale
along a turquoise sky, around, above the
perpendicular and slightly askew columns,
above the triangular gap
between crown and crag.

The moon, full at midnight,
is now high and faded
almost a lazy eyelid:
day’s eye opening
or night’s eye closing.

Birds chase and ride the wind
reeling, wheeling,
aware that in a moment
ordinary flight of day will have to be resumed.

The hawk alone is steady,
keeps position despite the gale
to pinpoint a victim

and far below
grasses tinge in flower:
harebell, yarrow, lady’s yellow bedstraw
Among the rangy thistles and fatted doves.

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190d

16 to go in the next 5 months!

https://app.thestorygraph.com/profile/honzin

#books #amreading #reading #kindle #literature #booktoot #book #knihy #scifi #fantasy #fiction #ebook @bookstodon @knihy

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185d

Why is a cowboy writer from Ohio venerated in a small Aussie beach town? The incredible story of Zane Grey

The dentist-turned bestselling author had a caravan park named after him after making a killer shark movie in 1930s Australia. A swashbuckling new biography unspools the unlikely tale

By Beejay Silcox

https://www.theguardian.com/books/2025/jul/29/big-sharks-coded-love-letters-a-movie-fiasco-the-strange-australian-chapter-of-celebrity-cowboy-writer-zane-grey

Zane Grey at PG:
https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/author/212

#Books #Literature

Grey at Koala Park holding a koala during a visit to Australia in December 1935.

The image shows Grey gently holding a koala in his arms.

Dressed in a formal yet travel-appropriate suit and hat, Grey appears composed and curious, with a slight, reserved smile as he supports the animal.

The actress Lillian Pertka appears behind him and another man (also wearing a formal suit) is carressing the koala´s head.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zane_Grey#/media/File:Zane_Grey_in_Australia.jpg

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185d

Whaur’s yer Willie Shakespeare noo?
11 Sept, Royal Society of Edinburgh – free, ticketed

How does Scots language come alive on stage – and what does it say about us?

Playwright Ian Brown & linguist Jeremy Smith explore the Scots & English language varieties woven into THE SCOTCH PLAY (1990) – Brown’s reimagining of Shakespeare’s Macbeth

https://www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/whaurs-yer-willie-shakespeare-noo-tickets-1489136991829

#Scottish #literature #drama #theatre #Scots #Scotslanguage #Shakespeare #Macbeth

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184d

Cuil-lodair, is Briseadh na h-Eaglaise,
is briseadh nan tacannan –
lamhachas-làidir dà thrian de ar comas;
’se seòltachd tha dhìth oirinn…

—“Cruaidh?” (“Steel?”), by Ruaraidh MacThòmais (Derick Thomson, 1921–2012) – born #OTD, 5 Aug. A 🎂 🧵

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https://www.scottishpoetrylibrary.org.uk/poem/cruaidh/

#Scottish #Gaelic #Gaidhlig #literature #poem #poetry #20thcentury

Cruaidh?
le Ruaraidh MacThòmais

Cuil-lodair, is Briseadh na h-Eaglaise,
is briseadh nan tacannan –
lamhachas-làidir dà thrian de ar comas;
‘se seòltachd tha dhìth oirinn.
Nuair a theirgeas a’ chruaidh air faobhar na speala
caith bhuat a’ chlach-liomhaidh;
chan eil agad ach iarann bog
mur eil de chruas nad innleachd na ni sgathadh.

Is caith bhuat briathran mìne
oir chan fhada bhios briathran agad;
tha Tuatha Dè Danann fon talamh,
tha Tìr nan Og anns an Fhraing,
‘s nuair a ruigeas tu Tìr a’ Gheallaidh,
mura bi thu air t’ aire,
coinnichidh Sasannach riut is plion air,
a dh’ innse dhut gun tug Dia, bràthair athar, còir dha anns an fhearann.

ALT

Steel?
Translator: Derick Thomson

Culloden, the Disruption,
and the breaking up of the tack-farms –
two-thirds of our power is violence;
it is cunning we need.
When the tempered steel near the edge of the scythe-blade is worn
throw away the whetstone;
you have nothing left but soft iron
unless your intellect has a steel edge that will cut clean.

And throw away soft words,
for soon you will have no words left;
the Tuatha Dè Danann are underground,
the Land of the Ever-young is in France,
and when you reach the Promised Land,
unless you are on your toes,
a bland Englishman will meet you,
and say to you that God, his uncle, has given him a title to the land.

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184d

The Enduring Legacy of Suetonius, Rome’s Most Controversial Biographer

"The imperial biographer Suetonius is an important source for the lives of the Caesars, but how reliable are his accounts based on gossip and sensationalism?"

https://www.thecollector.com/suetonius-roman-imperial-biographer/

Suetonius at PG

https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/author/2024

#books #literature #romanhistory #history