I don’t know what’s been going on, but it’s been another week and another movie (another Italian movie, mind you) I managed to watch, so that in the past three weeks I consumed more films than I did in the last six months. Moreover, I managed to finish a bluntly boring book. And so, straight to my rampage.

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8½, 1963

A mixture of surrealistic dreams of an inflamed mind, mourning and griefs, untapped potential, and some wit. Albeit my liking, it will definitely not appeal to everyone in its tryings to make you feel the burden of unreleased feelings. Tap into a specific mood of “everything feels wrong and improper” and enjoy the show, I guess.

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The second sight of Zachary Cloudesley

About two weeks ago, there’s I, who walks into a bookstore and decides to choose a book blindly. My “don’t judge a book by its cover” landed on the cover of this one (in real life, it’s just beautiful with its golden foil and navy-indigo blue combination). So, 30 minutes later there’s I, walking out of the bookstore with “The second sight of Zachary Cloudesley” by Sean Lusk. Two weeks later and I say that this book couldn’t be more boring. With its setting in England of the 1700s, it fails to make the reader believe it is actually happening three hundred years ago. The travel through Europe to Turkey also doesn’t feel like it, blending every country into one big blob on the map. Many characters are flat with their motivations being absent. It is not bad (seen much worse); however, it would be a miss – there are many books of higher value out there.

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