“Memory, in short, is engraved not merely by the life we have led but by the life of the mind…by all the lives we so nearly led but missed by an inch, and—if we grant enough leeway to the imagination—by the lives of others, which can cut into ours every bit as sharply as our own experience.” – Anthony Lane, writing about W.G. Sebald in The New Yorker (May 29, 2000)
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Author Archives: Kara Krauze
Tarzan—in the jungle we call home
So, I’ve had a post half-ready to go for more than two weeks now. I don’t suffer from writer’s block; can’t even say I have its cousin, blog block. (I’ve written several posts in my head, in addition to the … Continue reading
Posted in Grief & grieving, Memory, Suicide
Tagged addiction, coffee, depression, drug abuse, grief, memory, New York City, prejudice, psychology, suicide
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How shy are you? – Some thoughts on thoughtfulness
These past weeks I have been mulling over the need for solitude. Why do we need it? When do we need it? Does everyone need it? What do we even mean by solitude? What do I mean? Sometimes we stumble … Continue reading
Posted in Grief & grieving, Memoir, Memory, Motherhood, Suicide, Writing & Reading
Tagged dyslexia, Hanif Kureishi, introvert, Judith Warner, Memorial Day, parenting, reading, Ritalin, shyness, solitude, Susan Cain, writing
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Of secrets, silence, and despair—veteran suicides, Russian teens, the power of the novel
I’ve had my head in the sand as much as possible this month, a rather nice (and terribly necessary) place to be as a writer. But emerging for air—or simply to attend to surrounding noise—tends to create something akin to … Continue reading
Adrienne Rich—what death leaves us missing
There are people we presume will always be there. This is something we seldom examine or think about; it just is. This morning when I picked up the paper and found those book-ended dates by Adrienne Rich’s name (1929-2012), my … Continue reading
Posted in Grief & grieving, Memory, Motherhood, Suicide, Writing & Reading
Tagged Adrienne Rich, Biting the Moon, Diving into the Wreck, divorce, feminism, motherhood, poetry, secrets, silence, suicide
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Motherhood, divorce, public vitriol—(don’t) tell us more
There was much bustle over in the UK last month, in the pages of The Guardian, in particular, with Telegraph readers jumping in too, about the release of Rachel Cusk’s new memoir, Aftermath: On Marriage and Separation, which was excerpted … Continue reading
Posted in Memoir, Memory, Motherhood, Writing & Reading
Tagged Aftermath, Biting the Moon, divorce, feminism, gender roles, Joanne S. Frye, memoir, memories of books, motherhood, Pen Parentis, Rachel Cusk
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“Welcome to Girl Land, my good little girls!”—Thank you Marlo Thomas and Friends
Caitlin Flanagan has a new book out. When a writer of a certain standing (read: excellent agent and/or energy-filled editor and publicist) is about to publish (again or for the first time), her name begins to pop up, there and … Continue reading
Posted in COUNTRIES OF LOST THINGS, Grief & grieving, Memory, Motherhood, Writing & Reading
Tagged 1970s, Caitlin Flanagan, divorce, Girl Land, grief, housewife, Joan Didion, motherhood, writer, writing
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Lots of latkes…Oh, Christmas tree…oh, Hanukkah, oh Hanukkah
Happy holidays, everyone! I’ve been consumed again by domesticity over the written word the past few weeks. (Is this a bi-annual event?) But amidst the Thanksgiving feast and Hanukkah festivities and upcoming Christmas celebrations, I’ve been thinking a lot about … Continue reading
Witness—the Holocaust, suicide, and memory (coincidence redux)
A few weeks ago, someone recommended the book Spectral Evidence to me, which, among other things, includes World War II photos from the Łódź Ghetto, the Nazis’ Jewish quarter in this major Polish city. I wrote the book title down … Continue reading
Tell me a story—about war
“While you were out last night, I saw a piece of paper, and it was very sad. And then it blew away,” my three-year-old reported the week before last. At first, I was not quite alarmed but certainly taken aback—how … Continue reading
When you open a door—night visions with Kafka or Beckett
My older son started a new school in May. This was a difficult decision, changing schools so late in the year, but one we made quite deliberately in navigating the New York City school system and the emerging needs of … Continue reading