For many of these women, the reading experience begins from a place of seething rage. Take Sara Marcus’ initial impression of Jack Kerouac: “I remember putting On the Road down the first time a woman was mentioned. I was just like: ‘Fuck. You.’ I was probably 15 or 16. And over the coming years I realized that it was this canonical work, so I tried to return to it, but every time I was just like, ‘Fuck you.’” Tortorici had a similarly visceral reaction to Charles Bukowski: “I will never forget reading Bukowski’s Post Office and feeling so horrible, the way that the narrator describes the thickness of ugly women’s legs. I think it was the first time I felt like a book that I was trying to identify with rejected me. Though I did absorb it, and of course it made me hate my body or whatever.” Emily Witt turned to masculine texts to access a sexual language that was absent from books about women, but found herself turned off by their take: “many of the great classic coming-of-age novels about the female experience don’t openly discuss sex,” she says in No Regrets. “I read the ones by men instead, until I was like, ‘I cannot read another passage about masturbation. I can’t. It was like a pile of Kleenex.”

This isn’t just about the books. When young women read the hyper-masculine literary canon—what Emily Gould calls the “midcentury misogynists,” staffed with the likes of Roth, Mailer, and Miller—their discomfort is punctuated by the knowledge that their male peers are reading these books, identifying with them, and acting out their perspectives and narratives. These writers are celebrated by the society that we live in, even the one who stabbed his wife. In No Regrets, Elif Bautman talks about reading Henry Miller for the first time because she had a “serious crush” on a guy who said his were “the best books ever,” and that guy’s real-life recommendation exacerbated her distaste for the fictional. When she read Miller, “I felt so alienated by the books, and then thinking about this guy, and it was so hot and summertime … I just wanted to kill myself. … He compared women to soup.”

In No Regrets, women writers talk about what it was like to read literature’s “midcentury misogynists.” (via becauseiamawoman)

Here’s a fun thing you learn when you study literature: the western canon is not universally beloved. Those books are not the Truth any more than the New York Post is skilled journalism. The main reason they’re held in such high esteem is because they were written by boring white dudes with rage fantasies and boring white dudes with rage fantasies also happen to be largely in charge of deciding which books are deemed classics and taught forever in the American school system.
So if your boyfriend tells you he loves Kerouac then you tell your boyfriend Kerouac was a fucking second rate hack who wrote Beat style because he didn’t have the skill or talent to write any other way, which is probably also why he just copied every adolescent male wanderlust story since the beginning of time. That shit’s derivative and boring.

(via saintthecla)

Everyone go read this immediately. As I decided last week, my life motto has been expanded from “Do your thing and don’t care if they like it” to include “If all your favorite books are by white men, I probably don’t think you’re a very interesting person.”

(via velocipedestrienne)

(Reblogged from jenandtonic)

officialubisoft:

ok but if there is a thor movie with the new thor i already have a fancasting

image

(Reblogged from jenandtonic)

(Source: sandandglass)

(Reblogged from jenandtonic)

Cy Twombly

(Source: outsh)

(Reblogged from head-filled-elsewhere)

fleurdulys:

Death Day - Carlos Schwabe

~1892

(Reblogged from fleurdulys)

official-sciencesideoftumbler:

thatmlc:

queenofcorgis:

opal-porn:

Ethiopian opal geode

egg

egg

Egg

(Source: opalauctions.com)

(Reblogged from takeatraindowntochowtown)
(Reblogged from fresh-baked-goods)
(Reblogged from likeafieldmouse)

rlmjob:

I know everyone is entitled to their own opinion and have differing views and whatnot but how the fuck do you not like dogs

(Reblogged from head-filled-elsewhere)
But the 8-hour workday is too profitable for big business, not because of the amount of work people get done in eight hours (the average office worker gets less than three hours of actual work done in 8 hours) but because it makes for such a purchase-happy public. Keeping free time scarce means people pay a lot more for convenience, gratification, and any other relief they can buy. It keeps them watching television, and its commercials. It keeps them unambitious outside of work.

We’ve been led into a culture that has been engineered to leave us tired, hungry for indulgence, willing to pay a lot for convenience and entertainment, and most importantly, vaguely dissatisfied with our lives so that we continue wanting things we don’t have. We buy so much because it always seems like something is still missing.
Your Lifestyle Has Already Been Designed  (via weedbrain)

(Source: beccap)

(Reblogged from loamsick)
All the beauty of life is made up of light and shadow.
Leo Tolstoy (via likeafieldmouse)
(Reblogged from likeafieldmouse)
And anyway, when did sexual attraction become the sole metric for physical beauty? Is a sunset “ugly” just because you don’t want to fuck it? What about a waterfall? A horse? Ireland? A song?
(Reblogged from lmac4u)

lizzysmart:

teeny tiny squids omg

(Source: golem-repulsive)

(Reblogged from botanicalgrl)

queencreosote:

listenandheartheart:

Can’t wait to be a momma one day

This picture kills me every damn time.

(Reblogged from botanicalgrl)
(Reblogged from likeafieldmouse)