Sunday, December 6

Keep off the grass

“Some days are like difficult prose; you just have to let it wash over you, admiring the beauty of the sentences, if you can bear to, trying not to worry that you don’t know where you’re going. You nurse the vague hope that at some point things will make sense again, and the earlier passages will fall into place. The main thing is not to give up…” 

In the same way my Gudgeon legend cites favourite films that contrast Walter Hill’s Hard Times with Powell/Pressburger’s Red Shoes, I always feel the necessity of balancing Susie Boyt’s pâte à choux with a finger to the blob. Step forward Tyson Fury. It has come to a sorry pass when we feel driven to rally behind members of the gypsy community.

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