When I told my husband I was writing about canals today, he said ‘quenelles?!’
No, not quenelles. And not the canals in Venice, or even in Delft. Let’s talk about canals in Combray, shall we? Continue reading “Canals, not Quenelles”
Silly Bergotte and his little patch of yellow wall
He repeated to himself: “Little patch of yellow wall, with a sloping roof, little patch of yellow wall.”
What is it about the death of Bergotte, poor Bergotte, that makes me love him so much? Yes, it’s his indigestion, and his silly little mantra about the patch of yellow wall. in Vermeer’s View of Delft. Continue reading “Silly Bergotte and his little patch of yellow wall”