sackvillesque

Latest Posts by sackvillesque

Martha Gellhorn, from a letter featured in The Selected Letters of Marth Gellhorn

Fyodor Dostoevsky, tr. by Hugh Aplin, from "Poor People," originally written in 1846

your art style is so cute

Paul：“John, I asked you out to talk about the band, not to watch you two snogging. Unbelievable.”

Ch'ang Ch'u Ling, translated by Kenneth Rexroth, from a poem titled "Since You Left,"

Novelist Patricia Highsmith ate the same thing for virtually every meal: bacon and fried eggs. She began each writing session with a stiff drink—“not to perk her up,” according to her biographer, Andrew Wilson, “but to reduce her energy levels, which veered towards the manic.” Then she would sit on her bed surrounded by cigarettes, coffee, a doughnut and a saucer of sugar, the intention being “to avoid any sense of discipline and make the act of writing as pleasurable as possible.”

From Killian Fox, The Gannet’s Gastronomic Miscellany, 2017

More writers’ food habits from LitHub

reblog to give warm bread to your mutuals

i love this maker😭

@bajaja-blast tag

Tag game: make yourself as a little guy

Tagged by: @thanatos-zagreus-shagreus

Tagging: @thiamsxbitch @rhyslahey @myinnerguineapig and whoever else is up for doing it 💙

R.I.P. Roberta Cleopatra Flack, Feb. 10, 1937 - Feb. 24, 2025🎍🎍🎍

A neighbor of John and Yoko at the Dakota, she also performed alongside them at the One to One concerts at Madison Square Garden in 1972🌻

The photo here was taken backstage at the 1975 Grammy Awards💐

Via Buskin with The Beatles FB🥀

I really hate when people mystify intelligence as some innate or supernatural ability rather than the willingness to read books and consider different perspectives. Anyone with enough time, training, and preparation could become a professor. Stop seeing knowledge as arcane rather than as a skill anyone can develop.

I am starting uni on September 16th. I am scared, as I don't know anybody (all of my friends are going to other colleges, and studying things far more useful than literary studies and classics).

A couple months back I went on a tour of the humanities faculty building and it is absolutely beautiful, it looks like it could belong in a Donna Tartt novel, or a Shirley Jackson story: creepy, kind of unsettling, old, reminiscent of gothic architecture, beautiful.

I am excited, but also extremely confused, when I was building my timetable I realized none of my classes were on Fridays, and upon further research I found out there is no class on Fridays. I am confused about that.

Anyway, as I do every year before school starts, or, As I've done for the past three years, I will be re-reading The Secret History by Donna Tartt. I have had to buy a new copy because the one I've had since 2021 is so used the pages fall off. I am currently reading The Goldfinch, also by Donna Tartt.

Have a good academic year, lots of love,

Anna.

why did the most fire art always evolve from this era

'the bubble,' clarence h. white, platinum print, 1898. printed 1905.

I don’t think some people realize this is a critique lmao. I love the description of the woman imagining she’s driving on the road it really highlights the fleeting/unstable feeling she’s trying to capture and how the generation’s youth finds comfort in it 😌

A woman drives fast along the California freeway with the radio screaming, delirious with grief. She does this every morning, dressing quickly in her Beverly Hills home so as to leave no time to think. Changing lanes is like a dance the way she's trained herself to do it, seamlessly and to the beat. She walks barefoot into gas stations, rinsing down pills with warm Coca-Cola and chatting mindlessly with the attendants. Her marriage is over. Her showbiz career is dead. Her child has been taken away. She is known to cry at parties or get carried home; close friends have come to believe she's insane. It is only on the freeway, when the music is loud, that she can forget what's become of her life. To fall asleep she imagines herself on the road: "The Hollywood to the San Bernardino and straight on out, past Barstow, past Baker, driving straight on into the hard white empty core of the world."

How chic the story sounds the way Joan Didion tells it in her 1970 novel Play It as It Lays. The woman is a trainwreck but a sharp and glamorous one, numbing out on pills as a critique of moral rot in 1960s Tinseltown. Books are great that way. Played out in real life in the year 2007, the tale loses its cool; now the woman is a punchline whose endless personal disasters keep a burgeoning new media economy afloat. It seemed that every week, or sometimes even every day, brought a hysterical new headline regarding the downward spiral of America's pop princess. ("HELP ME!" "INSANE!" "OUT OF CONTROL!") "We serialize Britney Spears. She's our President Bush," said TMZ founder Harvey Levin in a gruesome Rolling Stone cover story from early 2008, which began with Britney wailing in a San Fernando Valley shopping mall as a crowd closed around her with their Sidekick smartphones brandished. "I don't know who you think I am, bitch," 26-year-old Spears snarled to a shopgirl approaching for a photo. "But I'm not that person."

...

"Do you feel out of control in your life?" asks an interviewer off-screen in Britney: For the Record, the MTV documentary on Spears' "post-breakdown" life released at the end of 2008. That February, she had been placed against her will under the conservatorship of her father and former business manager, which would last for the next 13 years. "No, I don't feel it's out of control. I think it's too in control," Spears answers without pause. "There's no excitement. There's no passion. It's like Groundhog Day every day." The camera pulls in close as she wipes away her tears. "When did you last feel free?" the man asks later. "When I got to drive my car a lot," she wistfully replies. "I haven't been able to drive my car."

Meaghan Garvey, "Blackout Album Review"

I like the collage

I just finished the second week of uni. It went by really quickly, it's been good. I don't have much work yet so I've been getting back into substack lately.

I made an instagram account specifically for my writing, it's @thatswhytheycallmeanitaa, i hope you follow it. I also hope you follow my substack, you won't regret it.

I'm currently reading Antigone, for uni; it always makes me tear up. I'm writing a lot, in fact I will post an essay on substack tomorrow (hopefully).

Substack is a strange place, just as tumblr or letterboxd are, it's hard to find a community there, plus nobody I know in real life ever uses any of these apps. Most of my Substack followers and subscribers are people I know irl who decided to subscribe to do me a favor, but they never read, like or comment on my posts; it's discouraging.

For all my life I've thought the only possible job I could ever have was to be a writer or artist, now, already in university, I fear people might not want to consume my art; I fear being invisible.

Maybe this is weird, but I'm scared. I've only ever wanted to write, and to have people consume my writing.

Anyways, I'm going crazy but I still love all of you,

Xx, lots of love,

Anna

as inspiration from joan didion I’m buying coca-cola in bulk and idk if I should get cherry coke, diet coke, regular coke…😭 I think I might buy all 3 at this point. maybe it will accelerate my political analysis skills lol

this is funny

Linda McCartney vegetarian 1/4lb burger

Paulie and Martha!!!!!

this applies heavily to me, maybe some people can tell by the username 😔

I noticed if I’m gonna be obsessed with a straight historical figure then you bet im gonna be more interested in their girlfriend than their existence.

anyone who has “known for being the love interest of ___” in their Wikipedia page I’m sorry those Wikipedia contributors did you dirty like that.

btw op (I don’t care that this isn’t Reddit) has good taste in historical figures

just realized that my favorite historical figures are always the less well-known gay lover of a famous historical person

do you ever think about that joke people seem to love that's like, "why do mothers always say 'my baby is 24 months old'? no, [woman's name] your child is 2." as if it's not extremely obvious that mothers who state their baby's or toddler's age in months are dedicated to keeping track of the child's development and looking after them appropriately, which at that stage is, yes, important right down to the exact month. and mothers are answering this way because that's the number they have in their heads from spending so much of their time dedicated to the wellbeing of their child, not because they're being pedantic or annoying or whatever it is people are projecting onto these women. and it's never, "why do dads always say 'my baby is 24 months old'?" it's specifically always mothers who are made fun of for this, and they're literally just being made fun of for being good, diligent, dedicated mothers.

in the most affectionate way possible linda looks like a kid who just woke up their parents in the middle of the night to tell them they just vomited

john and yoko in Japan!!