To Read & To Write

A work of art can be understood as something to one, and something completely different to another. And then, it means something to the author. Sometimes there is a line of clarity, where everyone agrees, and other times the ideas produced by a work are so vastly different that we wonder how to make sense of it at all. We all know and have felt this frenzied state of interpretation. Moreover, we go back to old and new pieces time and time again; a song, a book, a poem, a painting, and as we experience it there is another realization: that time itself has changed the thing, placing it into newer, broader categories of meaning and truth. A.S. Byatt's Possession , winner of the Man Booker Prize in 1990, is a perfect representation of that kaleidoscopic manifestation of art, lived by its creator and then posthumously, and then into academic elucidation. The story, which claims many voices, is mastered by the study of what begins as a singular poet: Randolph Henry Ash. The stud...

I am so surprised when I hear that critics and readers alike are still shocked and taken aback when they read a novel about a young girl’s sexual experiences growing up. Granted, Melissa Paranello’s One Hundred Strokes Of The Brush Before Bed has been deemed by the author herself as pornographic literature. Even still, Paranello has added that this doesn’t make her book any less full of content or substance, as it explores themes of politics and identity, and deeply. And from my end of the line, this book seems nothing but relatable.  The book chronicles the intense story of Melissa P., a young 14 year old girl growing up in Sicily. One Hundred Strokes Of The Brush Before Bed was originally written in Italian (U.S. copies translated by Lawrence Venuti) and was published in 2003, much to the horror of Melissa’s parents, who realized that it was indeed an autobiographical novel. Each diary entry is raw, fluid, and extremely candid. Much of the subject matter describes her sexual...