New Year's Eve 1989 in the Venison household was one to remember. So it is unfortunate that I'm the only one who does. (My parents, and my aunties and uncles who attended the party at our house, all woke the next afternoon with "nasty colds" that seemed to have wiped all memory of the night's... Continue Reading →
Book Review: The Catcher in the Rye
All I used to know about this novel was that Mark David Chapman had it with him when he shot John Lennon. Fearing the book contained some bewitching influence, for years I resisted the curiosity to read it, lest I, too, be brainwashed into murdering an overrated music star. Then recently I watched a television... Continue Reading →
Book Review: A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man
James Joyce’s loosely autobiographical novel spans several years in the life of young Stephen Dedalus. Observing him mainly in a school and university setting, the book focuses on significant events and stages in his development. These points are merely markers in the story, while the substance is Stephen’s inner struggle: his emotions, questions, doubts, fears,... Continue Reading →