“I feel like I’ve outgrown high school,” Tilly pouts at her reflection in the mirror. “I can’t believe we still have two more years.”Cornelia and I roll our eyes.“Honey,” Cornelia says, “you’re sixteen, five foot nine, and a hundred and fifty-five pounds, you have not outgrown high school.”“I just feel like I want to beContinue reading “Chapter 19: Young and Beautiful “
Author Archives: My World of Interiors
The Little Man in the Big House: Hercule Poirot and the Strangeness of England
Agatha Christie gave the world’s most famous detective a moustache, a foreign accent, and a profound dislike of the English countryside. It was, in every sense, the point. By Bergotte There is a village in the English imagination that has never quite existed and has never stopped existing. It has a church with a NormanContinue reading “The Little Man in the Big House: Hercule Poirot and the Strangeness of England”
Chapter 18: Wild at Heart
“I have my driver’s licence!” I suddenly remember as we are watching The Ed Sullivan Show, we haven’t even talked about it yet. He shrugs. “Well, I’ve had mine for ages. What’s so special about yours?” He turns to me, and I grin. “I can get a car and drive us around,” I tell him.Continue reading “Chapter 18: Wild at Heart”
The Education of Helplessness: Of Human Bondage and the Novel That Refused to Lie
Somerset Maugham called it the book that saved his life. He also said it was the worst kind of novel — an autobiographical one. He was right on both counts, which is precisely why it endures. By Bergotte There is a type of novel that functions less like a work of art than like aContinue reading “The Education of Helplessness: Of Human Bondage and the Novel That Refused to Lie”
Chapter 17: Out of the Cradle Endlessly Rocking
“I don’t remember my life before America anymore. Not really,” I tell Miss Mary. “But dearheart,” she says, “you are still so young.” She thinks for a moment while I look down, trying to summon it, but it doesn’t come. Miss Mary has an idea and fetches an old photo album from the library. “Let’sContinue reading “Chapter 17: Out of the Cradle Endlessly Rocking”
What We Lose When We Love: The Way We Were and the Myth of the Perfect Compromise
It was sold as a love story. It was actually an argument about America — about politics, memory, and the terrible cost of choosing comfort over conviction. By Bergotte There is a moment near the end of The Way We Were, Sydney Pollack’s 1973 film, that has lodged itself in the cultural memory with aContinue reading “What We Lose When We Love: The Way We Were and the Myth of the Perfect Compromise”
Chapter 16: My Babe
The boy tells me about his summer job, saying it’s been fun and the folks are real nice. I listen, and imagine what it must be like to have a manual-labouring job like that. “You gotta let me do it soon,” he says, lying back in my room after we’ve laughed ourselves breathless about something.Continue reading “Chapter 16: My Babe”
The Scrawl of the Gods: Cy Twombly and the Art of Forgetting
He made paintings that looked like vandalism, drawings that resembled the work of a distracted child, and sculptures that seemed to be falling apart. He also changed the course of Western art. By Bergotte There is a canvas in the Menil Collection in Houston, twelve feet wide, that appears, at first glance, to have beenContinue reading “The Scrawl of the Gods: Cy Twombly and the Art of Forgetting”
Chapter 15: Home Is Where the Heart Is
It’s the summer when I turn sixteen.I haven’t been home since Christmas, and I haven’t seen very much of the boy since last summer’s tiff. We made up before I went back to school, he accepted my apology and the letter; we even went back to watching movies in the screening room, and to holdingContinue reading “Chapter 15: Home Is Where the Heart Is”
The Architecture of Silence: John Pawson and the Art of Less
He has built monasteries, fashion temples, and homes for the hyper-wealthy. But John Pawson’s real subject has always been the same: what happens when you take everything away. By Bergotte There is a room in the Czech countryside, an hour south of Prague, that has no decoration whatsoever. Its walls are limestone. Its floor isContinue reading “The Architecture of Silence: John Pawson and the Art of Less”
My World of Interiors 