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Total Number of Articles: 5
First Article on this Page: February 19, 2021
Latest Article on this Page: April 30, 2021
This week, I find myself once again unable to justify recommending a book. While this could be due to both my overall diminishing creativity as the semester comes to a close and the fact that my mind is focused on finding a job in one of the worst economies in recent memory, I’m inclined to believe that a book recommendation just isn’t what everyone needs right now.
If you have been following this column, you have come to expect a book recommendation every two weeks. This week, I write no such column. And for that, I am sorry. However, even if I do apologize for the pain you might go through by not receiving a book recommendation, I’m not sorry about the column I am writing.
I will never forgive people who make fun of other people for reading shitty, gay fan-fiction. In a country where people still ban books because of the sexual and romantic identities included in the pages or where a movie about gay characters can’t include a single fricking accurate sex scene, you’re just a downright terrible person if you hate on queer people for looking towards obscure Tumblr posts or websites for some form of media representation.
When people think of English literature, they often think of tweed, Oxford, an old white dude and the film “Dead Poets Society.” All of these have one thing in common: inaccessibility. Well, perhaps not old white dudes.
I have read more books for pleasure in the past few months than I have in the entirety of my time at Bowdoin—and I’m a senior English major. I’m also not alone. It seems like every day I get off a Facetime call with friends or a Zoom call with a professor where we just talked about this great new book we read.
