A Quiet Journey through Literary Depths
The African Literature in English “From Proverbs to Protests—Africa Writes Back” 🌍 Colonial Tongue, Native Spirit African literature in English is what happens when centuries of storytelling, fire circles, and ancestral wisdom meet the bureaucratic horror of colonial grammar. It’s a dance—part resistance, part reinvention—where English is no longer the invader, but the instrument. At […]
The American Literature “When Language Got Liberty and Literature Got Lungs.” A Nation Scribbled into Existence America didn’t just declare independence—it footnoted it. Somewhere between a tax revolt and a tea party, a new nation arrived with a quill in one hand and an identity crisis in the other. And thus began the great American
AmeriLit – A MERRY LIT Read More »
Or, The Man Who Gave Every Character a Moral Crisis, Then Watched Them Spiral By ABS, the Literary Scholar, who believes Hawthorne handed out scarlet letters the way modern writers hand out plot twists—with quiet glee and moral weight. Some authors write about love. Some write about war. Nathaniel Hawthorne wrote about guilt.Not just your
AmL-3 Nathaniel Hawthorne: Sin, Shame, and the Puritan That Lived in His Head Read More »
The Indian Literature in English “When the Empire Gave a Language—and Got Literature Back with Masala.” 🌏 From Colonies to Colloquialisms Indian literature in English was never supposed to be this sassy. It started off obediently enough—some decorous essays, a few “dearest sirs,” and a fear of misplacing commas in front of Queen Victoria. But
By ABS, The Literary Scholar(Who firmly believes that in Middlemarch, no one minds their business, and that’s precisely the point) If you’ve ever thought your town was too nosy, too dramatic, or too obsessed with marriage and mortgages, rest assured: George Eliot did it first and better in Middlemarch. Published in eight volumes between 1871–72
Litsketch 22. Middlemarch: Small Town, Big Feels, Endless Subplots Read More »
By ABS, The Literary Scholar(Who believes that if life is absurd, you may as well squint at the sun and be late to your own trial) Some novels begin with a bang. Others begin with a body. The Stranger begins with a sentence that feels like both and neither: “Mother died today. Or maybe yesterday,
Litsketch 21. The Stranger: Existential Ennui, Murder, and Meursault’s Emotional Day Off Read More »
By ABS, The Literary Scholar(Who firmly believes that if your family road trip doesn’t involve a flood, a fire, and a decomposing matriarch, you haven’t truly earned your Faulkner) Welcome to the most dysfunctional funeral procession in American literature. William Faulkner’s As I Lay Dying (1930) is the kind of novel you read, then reread,
Litsketch 20. As I Lay Dying: One Coffin, Many Voices, and an Unplanned Family Road Trip Read More »
By ABS, The Literary Scholar(Who firmly believes that if life is a courtroom, Kafka never gave us the charges—just the echo of footsteps in a never-ending corridor) Once upon a time in the grey, gaslit corners of modernity, a man woke up to find himself arrested. Not cuffed. Not jailed.Just politely, mysteriously, fatally… accused. Of
By ABS, The Literary Scholar(Who firmly believes that if repression had a user manual, Victorian men wrote it and then promptly tore it in half by moonlight) Before there were dual SIM phones, there were dual personalities.And before Marvel gave us Hulk-smash and Bruce Banner’s brooding remorse, Robert Louis Stevenson handed us a cautionary tale
By ABS, The Literary Scholar(Who firmly believes Florence should be prescribed for all cases of cultural constipation and gender-based claustrophobia) There are novels that arrive like grand trains—majestic, well-scheduled, and heavily metaphorical. And then there’s A Room with a View (1908), which breezes in like a sunbeam through lace curtains, carrying with it the scent
Litsketch 17. Room with a View: When Travel Cures Victorian Repression (Kind Of) Read More »