Author Archives: Rosalind Jana

Mary Elizabeth Frye wasn't much of a poet—but she put to paper one of the most famous verses on grief still celebrated today. Or did she?

The 1964 novel, reissued this winter, touches on many things currently out of reach—the festivity of large parties; the crashing tide of revellers bumping into each other; and the delights of dalliances with strangers

During lockdown, piles of discarded books sprung up everywhere: outside houses, ranging along low walls, balanced precariously atop gate posts. Leafing through them set my imagination alight

Virginia Woolf, Hilary Mantel, and Susan Sontag have often described illness as a landscape of sorts—but new writers point to a different way of approaching disease that seems more fitting to our time

What must this domestic landscape of sofas, unworn shoes and constantly present laps look like to our feline friends?