I started reading The Secret History because I fell into the trap that is dark academia (a very good trap indeed), but I had actually heard of the it before and only by seeing the cover of the book had I recalled one of the most poignant memories of my recent life.
Some moons ago, past midnight on a September evening, I was sitting on the floor in the bedroom of a boy I so greatly admired. He sat on the end of his bed with his head between his knees and a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He was recovering from one too many drinks, as a few hours prior, my friend and I were helping him get home from a party and forcing him to drink water so he wouldn’t die from alcohol poisoning. She had already left, leaving the two of us alone, him sobering up. From his phone speakers, classical music played, and he spoke to me about songs I would like, as well as book recommendations. He then said something about the book he was reading at the time, and that I’d like it very much, but I couldn’t make out who the author nor the title from what he was saying as he had his head between his knees. Nor could I pay proper attention because although I don’t drink, I was in a drunken stupor of being alone in his presence.
It was some moments later that he shuffled over and made a gesture for me to sit next to him. And so I did, and he wrapped his blanket around the two of us and rested his head on my left shoulder. I don’t remember if either of us had said a word, but the music kept playing. Two pieces remain with me: Gymnopédie No. 1 by Erik Satie, and Song on the Beach by Arcade Fire. I almost cried because of how truly happy I felt.
Nothing more happened between us that night. He fell asleep on my shoulder, and I had to go home. But before leaving I noticed that the book he was talking about was on his nightstand. A book none other than The Secret History by Donna Tartt. “… [A] group of clever, eccentric misfits at an elite New England college discover a way of thinking and living that is a world away from the humdrum existence of their contemporaries … ”
He was right. I did enjoy the book. As for him and I, that’s another story that I won’t delve into. It’s one that pertains more to tragedy than comedy.
“To fall in love with someone's thoughts - the most intimate, splendid romance.”
Sanober Khan
I had a nice Saturday morning studying Latin.
I also finished my notes on ‘Caliban and the Witch’ and let me tell you, there’s nothing better than a good scoop of feminist Marxist theory to start the day.
— Oscar Wilde, from The Picture Of Dorian Gray
a bunch of scribbles
Margaret Howell Fall 2018
Wenzel Tornøe (detail)
robin williams on the set of dead poets society
this week has been the craziest, but also that’s going to be the next week too. in other news though, i’m very excited about how this paper is turning out.
I’ve been getting into sketching with fountain pens, I love the way it looks!