I bought this book on the off-chance that it would be interesting and enjoyable. I had very low expectations. History books I’ve read recently have been dry and a bit boring, so I rarely finish them.
This unconventional and artfully composed history book exceeded all of my expectations and actually elevates the non-fiction history genre in my humble opinion.
Chris Gosden’s engaging and vividly colourful storytelling style brings to life the history of all things occult, pagan and witchy from ancient cave art to modern day witchcraft in a way that is deeply engrossing and enjoyable.
Towards the start of the book Gosden outlines his intention to showcase the triple helix of belief: magic, religion and science and how these magical practices emerged in the Middle East and manifested in nascent technologies and theories related to what later become philosophy, medicine, physics and astronomy.
He also outlines three aspects of magic: transcendence, transformation and transaction which influenced different magical practices.
Transcendence is evinced in the well-known maxim “as above, so below”. An example of transformation could be shapeshifting shamanism and transaction can be found in votive offerings in temples and other sacred places. This creates a very wide spectrum for what is defined as magic in the book.
Perhaps I am biased as this is a subject that I am already absolutely fascinated with, however, I lovingly underlined in lead pencil almost every second page. This is because between the pages lay particularly luminous and insightful statements that bring roaring to life elements of my spiritual practice that I never considered before.
If you are a practitioner of magic or you are simply fascinated by the oft-overlooked history of mysticism, paganism and witchcraft and how various folk medicine and folklore practices emerged across millennia, then you are guaranteed to enjoy this book. The only gripe I have about this book is that it spends far too little time traversing the magical practices of each region. In every case more than one chapter is needed to delve into ancient Egyptian magic, Jewish magic, Roman magic, Ancient Greek magic, early Christian mysticism, magic from Polynesian and Oceania, indigenous Austronesian magical practices etc. It seemed like Gosden was only really touching the tip of the iceberg on these very weighty and rich topics. As a wholesome introduction to this it was a real treasure.
Not only is The History of Magic a comprehensive and scholarly history of all things occult, but it is hugely immersive, a book to really sink your teeth into with your witch’s brew of choice.
“Every great work of art makes humanity richer and more admirable, and that is its only secret. And even thousands of concentration camps and prison cells cannot obliterate this deeply moving testimony to dignity. That is why it is not true that we could, even temporarily, set culture aside in order to prepare a new form of culture. It is impossible to set aside the endless testimony of human misery and greatness, impossible to stop breathing.”
An electrifying and timeless book of ideas about how artists can resist and overcome the forces of fascism written by one of the greats of the 20th Century, Albert Camus who created a massive body of work while actively resisting Nazism during WWII.
Rating: 🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟
Genre: Essays, Non-Fiction, Politics, Art
Publisher: Vintage
Review in one word: Electrifying
“Create Dangerously” is a short book of essays written in the 1950s by Albert Camus. Despite its age, its snappy insights feel immediately applicable to the current state of our world in 2025 and beyond. Camus touches on weighty topics like the role and responsibility of the artist, resisting fascism through artistic expression and rebellion, human freedom, love, beauty and despair and much more.
An inward-facing, biophilic and enchanting home in Singapore
Travelling in the wake of the Vikings
Greer Jarrett, a doctoral student at Lund University spent the past three years sailing a replica Viking faering boat over 5,000 kilometers along ancient Norse maritime routes.
His research involved constructing a traditional Viking-era sailing vessel and navigating it through challenging conditions, including storms, snow and hale on open waters. He and his team identified four potential Viking harbors along the Norwegian coast. These findings suggest a decentralized network of resting places on smaller islands where Vikings met and interacted. The video provides a fascinating insight into a seaborne and maritime view that the Vikings once may have had.
Hypernormalization” is a heady, $10 word, but it captures the weird, dire atmosphere of the US in 2025.
First articulated in 2005 by scholar Alexei Yurchak to describe the civilian experience in Soviet Russia, hypernormalization describes life in a society where two main things are happening.
The first is people seeing that governing systems and institutions are broken. And the second is that, for reasons including a lack of effective leadership and an inability to imagine how to disrupt the status quo, people carry on with their lives as normal despite systemic dysfunction – give or take a heavy load of fear, dread, denial and dissociation.
“What you are feeling is the disconnect between seeing that systems are failing, that things aren’t working … and yet the institutions and the people in power just are, like, ignoring it and pretending everything is going to go on the way that it has,” Harfoush says in her video.
Within 48 hours, Harfoush’s video accrued millions of views. (It currently has slightly fewer than 9m.) It spread in “mom groups, friend chat circles, political subreddits, coupon communities, and even dog-walking groups”, Harfoush tells me, along with variations of: “Oh, so that’s what I’ve been feeling!” and “people tagging their friends with notes like: ‘We were just talking about this!’”
Graphic illustration of man walking dog in foreboding landscape on fire
Why hypernormalization is relevant in the US
The increasing instability of the US’s democratic norms has prompted these references to hypernormalization.
Donald Trump is dismantling government checks and balances in an apparent advance toward a “unitary executive” doctrine that would grant him near-unlimited authority, driving the US toward autocracy. Billionaire tech moguls like Elon Musk are helping the government consolidate power and aggressively reduce the federal workforce. Institutions like the National Institutes of Health, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention and the Food and Drug Administration, which help keep Americans healthy and informed, are being haphazardly diminished.
Globally, once-in-a-lifetime climate disasters, war and the lingering trauma of Covid continue to unfold, while an explosion of generative AI threatens to destabilize how people think, make a living and relate to each other.
It’s reading an article about hunger and genocide, only to scroll down to a quiz about: ‘What Pop-Tart are you?
Rahaf Harfoush, digital anthropologist
For many in the US, Trump 2.0 is having a devastating effect on dailylife. For others, the routines of life continue, albeit threaded with mind-altering horrors: scrolling past an AI-generated cartoon of Ice officers arresting immigrants before dinner, or hearing about starving Palestinian families while on a school run.
Hypernormalization captures this juxtaposition of the dysfunctional and mundane.
It’s “the visceral sense of waking up in an alternate timeline with a deep, bodily knowing that something isn’t right – but having no clear idea how to fix it”, Harfoush tells me. “It’s reading an article about childhood hunger and genocide, only to scroll down to a carefree listicle highlighting the best-dressed celebrities or a whimsical quiz about: ‘What Pop-Tart are you?’”
In his 2016 documentary HyperNormalisation, the British film-maker Adam Curtis argued that Yurchak’s critique of late-Soviet life applies neatly to the west’s decades-long slide into authoritarianism, something more Americans are now confronting head-on.
Trump’s US is “just like Yeltsin in Russia in the 1990s – promising a new kind of democracy, but in reality allowing the oligarchs to loot and distort the society”, says Curtis.
Why the concept of hypernormalisation is useful
Witnessing large-scale systems slowly unravel in real time can be profoundly surreal and frightening. The hypernormalization framework offers a way to understand what we’re feeling and why.
Harfoush created her video “to reassure others that they’re not alone” and that “they aren’t misinterpreting the situation or imagining things”. Understanding hypernormalization “made me feel less isolated”, she says. “It’s difficult to act when you’re uncertain if you’re perceiving reality clearly, but once you know the truth, you can channel that clarity into meaningful action and, ideally, drive positive change.”
Naming an experience can be a form of psychological relief. “The worst thing in the world is to feel that you’re the only one who feels this way and that you are going quietly mad and everyone else is in denial,” says Caroline Hickman, a psychotherapist and instructor at the University of Bath specializing in climate anxiety. “That terrifies people. It traumatizes people.”
People who feel the “wrongness” of current conditions acutely may be experiencing some depression and anxiety, but those feelings can be quite rational – not a symptom of poor mental health, alarmism or a lack of proper perspective, Hickman says.
“What we’re really scared of is that the people in power have not got our back and they don’t give a shit about whether we survive or not,” she says.
‘The hypernormalisation framework offers a way to understand what we’re feeling and why.’ Illustration: Glenn Harvey/Guardian
Marielle Greguski, 32, a New York City-based retail worker and content creator, posted about everyday life feeling “inconsequential” in the face of political crisis. Greguski says the outcome of the 2024 election reminded her that she lives in a “bubble” of progressive values, and that “there’s the other half of people that are not feeling the same energy and frustration and fear”.
To Greguski, the US’s failings are not only partisan but moral – like the racism and bigotry that Trump’s second term has brought out of the shadows and into policy.
Greguski is currently planning a wedding. It’s hard to compartmentalize “constant cruelty, things that don’t make sense”, she says. “Sometimes I’ll be like: ‘I have to put aside X amount of money for the wedding next year,’ and then I’m like: ‘Will this country exist as we know it next year?’ It really is crazy.”
The effects of hypernormalisation
Confronting systemic collapse can be so disorienting, overwhelming and even humiliating, that many tune it out or find themselves in a state of freeze.
Greguski likens this feeling to sleep paralysis: “basically a waking nightmare where you’re like: ‘I’m here, I’m aware, but I’m so scared and I can’t move.’”
In his 1955 book They Thought They Were Free: The Germans, 1933–45, journalist Milton Mayer described a similar state of freeze in German citizens during the rise of the Nazi party: “You don’t want to act, or even talk, alone; you don’t want to ‘go out of your way to make trouble.’ Why not? – Well, you are not in the habit of doing it. And it is not just fear, fear of standing alone, that restrains you; it is also genuine uncertainty.”
“People don’t shut down because they don’t feel anything,” says Hickman. “They shut down because they feel too much.” Understanding this overwhelm is an important first step in resisting inaction – it helps us see fear as a trap.
Curtis points out that governments may intentionally keep their citizens in a vulnerable state of dread and confusion as “a brilliant way of managing a highly febrile and anxious society”, he says.
When we feel powerless in the face of bigger problems, we “turn to the only thing that we do have the power over, to try and change for the better”, says Curtis – meaning, typically, ourselves. Anxiety and fear can trap us, leading us to spend more time trying to feel better in small, personal ways, like entertainment and self-care, and less time on activism and community engagement.
Hypernormalisation: ‘People don’t shut down because they don’t feel anything. They shut down because they feel too much.’ Illustration: Glenn Harvey/Guardian
How to overcome hypernormalisation
Progressive commentators have urgently called for moral clarity and mobilization in response to changes like the cuts to USAID funding, which has resulted in an estimated 103 deaths per hour across the globe; the dismantling of the CDC; and Robert F Kennedy’s campaign against vaccine science.
“Where is the outrage?” asks the Nation’s Gregg Gonsalves. “Too many lives are at stake to rest in this bizarre moment of frozen agitation.”
“I don’t know if there’s a massive shift toward racism as much as an expanded indifference toward it,” the historian Robin DG Kelley said in a February interview with New York Magazine. “People are just kind of like: ‘Well, what can we do?’”
Experts say action can break the spell. “Being active politically, in whatever way, I think helps reduce apocalyptic gloom,” says Betsy Hartmann, an activist, scholar and author of The America Syndrome, which explores the importance of resisting apocalyptic thinking.
Greguski and a co-worker have been helping distribute multilingual information about legal rights and helpline numbers, to be used in the event of Ice raids.
“It’s easy to feel like: ‘Oh, I’m in community because I’m on TikTok,’” she says. But genuine community is about “getting outside and talking to your neighbor and knowing that there’s someone out there that can help you if something really bad goes down,” she says.
Being active politically, in whatever way, I think helps reduce apocalyptic gloom
Betsy Hartmann, author of The America Syndrome
“You’re actually out there talking to people, working with people and realizing there are so many good people in the world, too, and maybe feeling less isolated than before,” says Hartmann.
“But I also think we need a broader vision,” Hartmann notes. She suggests looking to resistance efforts against authoritarianism in countries like Turkey, Hungary and India. “How might we be in international solidarity? What lessons can we learn in terms of rebuilding sophisticated, complex government infrastructure that’s been hacked away at by people like Elon Musk and his minions in a more socially just and sustainable way?”
“We are in a period now when it’s absolutely essential to protest,” says Hartmann, citing the Harvard professor Erica Chenoweth, who argues that just 3.5% of a population engaging in peaceful protest can hold back authoritarian movements.
What makes dysfunction so dangerous is that we might simply learn to live with it. But understanding hypernormalization gives us language – and permission – to recognize when systems are failing, and clarifies the risk of not taking action when we can.
In 2014, Ursula Le Guin accepted the National Book Foundation’s Medal for Distinguished Contribution to American Letters, saying: “We live in capitalism. Its power seems inescapable. So did the divine right of kings. Any human power can be resisted and changed by human beings. Resistance and change often begin in art, and very often in our art, the art of words.”
Harfoush reflects on this quote often. It underscores the fact that “this world we’ve created is ultimately a choice”, she says. “It doesn’t have to be like this.”
We have the research, technologies and wisdom to create better, more sustainable systems.
“But meaningful change requires collective awakening and decisive action,” says Harfoush. “And we need to start now.”
Overcoming my terror of new housemates was gradual but by observing them I learned that pythons can be beautiful and clever
Fifteen years ago, while perched on the back deck of my 1920s tin and timber Queenslander home in Brisbane, I realised I was being watched.
I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end and I spun around to discover a snake dangling from the lattice. Terrified, I rushed inside and locked the door. Clearly, fear is not rational, or I would have understood that serpents don’t have arms.
I adore lizards. I’ve visited Indonesia’s komodo dragons and cuddled shinglebacks in Australia’s red centre but I have always been more scared than seduced by snakes.
When I was growing up in country Queensland in the 1970s, we often encountered venomous snakes – our tiny town even had a Black Snake Creek. Running around our back yard it was common to almost trip over a deadly king brown. Parental advice: “Just freeze. Keep an eye on it. And sing out to Mum.”
Mum would shout to Dad, who was a bit of a Steve Irwin-type, and he’d grab a hessian bag, casually toss the reptile in, then escort it up to the farm shed to eat the rats.
‘Carpet pythons … are great for the environment, as they eat bush rats, and keep noisier neighbours like possums from moving into roofs.’ Photograph: Christine Retschlag/The Guardian
Before living in Brisbane, I’d never encountered a python, only venomous snakes. My anxious mother understandably did a hard sell on the horrors of snake bites, lest one of her four children succumb to their fangs. This gave me the same kind of fear you’d get playing hide and seek as a kid. You love the game but there’s an element of adrenaline when found. Should I fight or flee?
Fast forward several decades and I’m living 4km from Brisbane’s city centre, with a bushy back yard which I have deliberately grown wild to encourage possums, kookaburras, water dragons and sulphur-crested cockatoos. And, it turned out, 10 years into living on the property, non-venomous eastern carpet pythons.
A snake skin left ‘hanging over the deck like stockings’. Photograph: Christine Retschlag/The Guardian
Overcoming my terror of these new housemates was gradual. Critics say it’s wrong to anthropomorphise an animal but watching the serene Sylvia slither from my ceiling into the cypress pine which overhangs my back deck was the first step. By naming her – I assumed it was a she from her gentle energy – and observing her I quickly learned what a beautiful and clever creature she was.
I loved how she would dislocate her jaw to yawn or when hungry. How she used her forked tongue to smell. I was fascinated when her eyes would go milky in the days before she shed her skin, a gift she would leave hanging over the deck like stockings. On hot days she would stretch her ever increasing girth along the back deck and allow me to run my hands along the curves of her spine.
Sylvia eventually grew too curvy to squeeze back into the ceiling cavity. Carpet pythons are territorial and, soon after, another arrived, then another.
Straight after Sylvia came Son of Satan, or Shitty for short. Sadly Shitty thought he was a taipan, one of the few Australian snakes which are actually aggressive, had remarkable eyesight and hearing, and would strike at my back-door glass whenever he glimpsed me inside the house.
For a brief moment my fear returned and the back deck became off limits, until I reminded myself that snakes, like humans, all have different personalities. And that this was still a wild animal. From Shitty, I learned respect.
There are snake catchers galore in south-east Queensland but many of us choose to live with our carpet pythons – even the grumpy ones. They are great for the environment as they eat bush rats, and keep noisier neighbours like possums from moving into roofs.
Shitty has now moved on and I’m left with Slinky, a scrawny juvenile who is, at this stage, a hopeless hunter. This will change and eventually Slinky will leave my ceiling too. While I’m not sure who’s lurking to move in next, I’m learning more about these incredible, quiet creatures (you should see them climb) and I look forward to the day another sanguine serpent like my beloved Sylvia graces my back deck.
About 280g firm or extra-firm tofu – if using silken, skip step 3 Salt and black pepper 4 tbsp cornflour, or other starch (optional) Neutral oil, for deep-frying
For the chilli crisp (if making) 1½ tbsp Sichuan peppercorns 3-4 tbsp gochuharu, or other chilli flakes to taste 30g roasted salted peanuts, or soybeans, roughly chopped 1 tbsp fermented black beans, finely chopped (optional) 250ml neutral oil 1 long shallot, or 2 round ones, peeled and thinly sliced 6 garlic cloves, peeled and thinly sliced 1 tsp sugar (optional) ¼ tsp MSG powder (optional)
1 A note on the tofu
Firm or extra-firm tofu is the best choice for frying – silken will be creamy inside, and pressed tofu chewier and more meaty. For the neatest results, cut into bite-sized nuggets about 3cm x 2cm. If you value crunch over appearance, break it into bite-sized pieces instead; the rougher edges will crisp up better than perfectly flat surfaces.
2 Soak the tofu
For maximum crispness, remove as much excess moisture from the tofu as possible before cooking it. Fill a bowl or pan with boiling water and season very generously with salt, so it tastes like the sea. Drop in the tofu, leave to soak for 15 minutes (the hot water will draw out liquid from the centre of the tofu; the salt’s just for seasoning).
3 Dry the tofu
Meanwhile, line a baking tray with kitchen paper or a clean tea towel. Drain the tofu, put it on the tray and top with more paper or another towel. Put another baking tray or chopping board on top, weigh that down with a couple of tins, or something else heavy, and leave to sit for 15 minutes.
4 To coat, or not to coat?
Coating the tofu is optional, but it will help with crunchiness. Put the cornflour or other starch (eg, plain or rice flour, potato starch, etc) in a shallow bowl and season generously with salt and pepper, or other spices of your choice. Add the pieces of tofu, toss to coat lightly, then shake off any excess.
5 Fry the tofu
Meanwhile, fill a deep pan by about a third with a neutral oil and heat to 180C (or until bubbles form around the end of a wooden chopstick). Add the tofu, in batches, if need be, stir once, then fry until crisp and golden. Drain on kitchen paper, season and serve with a dipping sauce, or toss through a stir-fry.
6 And now for some homemade chilli crisp
You may wish to serve your fried tofu (and just about everything else you eat, for that matter, from eggs to rice to steamed veg) with chilli crisp. Though there are many delicious ready-made versions out there, making your own allows you to tweak the basic formula (oil, chilli, crunchy beans or nuts) to suit your own taste.
7 Toast and grind the spices
Toast the peppercorns and/or any other whole spices (eg, black peppercorns, cumin and/or coriander seeds, star anise, cinnamon) in a dry pan, then roughly crush. Chilli-wise, I prefer medium-hot flakes such as Korean gochugaru, but experiment with different varieties. Toast briefly, then grind, if necessary. Put the peanuts, black beans and all the spices in a large heatproof bowl.
8 Flavour the oil
Set a heatproof sieve over a heatproof bowl. Pour the oil into a wide frying pan, add the sliced shallot and put the pan on a medium heat. Fry, stirring, until the shallot is crisp and golden, then drain into the sieve and return the oil to the pan. Add the garlic, cook until pale golden, then drain again.
9 Mix and jar
Pour the hot oil on to the spice and nut mixture, then stir in the sugar and MSG, if using; you may also wish to add salt, depending on how salty your peanuts and black beans are. Leave to cool completely, then stir in the fried shallots and garlic. Decant into a clean jar, seal and store in the fridge.
The incredible blog Non-Zero Sum Games has some incredible interactive posts about philosophy, ideology, psychology, politics, and loads more. I am in love with this website and how it easily unpacks complex topics.
Humans are social animals, and as such we are influenced by the beliefs of those around us. This simulation explores how beliefs can spread through a population, and how indirect relationships between beliefs can lead to unexpected correlations.
Illustration about how ideas become contagious by Zero Sum Games
Strange bed-fellows
There are some strange ideological bed-fellows that emerge in the realm of human beliefs. Social scientists grapple with the strong correlation between Christianity and gun ownership when the “Prince of Peace” lived in a world without guns. Similarly there are other correlations between atheism and globalisation or pro-regulation leftists who are also pro-choice, and then we have the anti-vax movement infiltrating both the far-left and far-right of politics. Read more
“one of the most important qualities to develop in life is determination. at some point you just have to put your foot down and say, “i am going to move in this new direction and no person or situation is going to stop me.” great transformations need a beginning.
It is difficult to describe how joyful, vivid and clear about everything in life that this book makes me feel. It’s the kind of book you can read over and over without tiring of its insights. Clarity and Connection is a revitalising treasure of wisdom that brings together timeless insights into the meaning of love, compassion (for self and other) as well as how to heal and recover from trauma and a difficult period of one’s life.
“Art, because of the inherent freedom that is its very essence, as I have tried to explain, unites, wherever tyranny divides. So how could it be surprising that art is the chosen enemy of every kind of oppression? How could it be surprising that artists and intellectuals are the primary victims of modern tyrannies, whether they are right-wing or left-wing? Tyrants know that great works embody a force for emancipation that is only mysterious to those who do not worship art.”
An electrifying and timeless book of ideas about how artists can resist and overcome the forces of fascism written by one of the greats of the 20th Century, Albert Camus who created a massive body of work while actively resisting Nazism during WWII.
Rating: 🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟
Genre: Essays, Non-Fiction, Politics, Art
Publisher: Vintage
Review in one word: Electrifying
“Create Dangerously” is a short book of essays written in the 1950s by Albert Camus. Despite its age, its snappy insights feel immediately applicable to the current state of our world in 2025 and beyond. Camus touches on weighty topics like the role and responsibility of the artist, resisting fascism through artistic expression and rebellion, human freedom, love, beauty and despair and much more.
“We are adrift on the open seas. Artists, like everyone else, must take up their oars, without dying, if possible—that is to say, by continuing to live and create.”
An electrifying and timeless book of ideas about how artists can resist and overcome the forces of fascism written by one of the greats of the 20th Century, Albert Camus who created a massive body of work while actively resisting Nazism during WWII.
Rating: 🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟
Genre: Essays, Non-Fiction, Politics, Art
Publisher: Vintage
Review in one word: Electrifying
“Create Dangerously” is a short book of essays written in the 1950s by Albert Camus. Despite its age, its snappy insights feel immediately applicable to the current state of our world in 2025 and beyond. Camus touches on weighty topics like the role and responsibility of the artist, resisting fascism through artistic expression and rebellion, human freedom, love, beauty and despair and much more.
I just love this moment of pure optimism, youthful joy and romance, the mid-century clothes and the hair and the general vibe of golden nostalgia. If nostalgia had a quintessential photo…this would be it! That red beret is to-die-for.
Spyglass Illustration offers a high-quality print of the Bell Rock Lighthouse, the world’s oldest surviving sea-washed lighthouse and one of the seven wonders of the industrial world. Located off the east coast of Scotland, Bell Rock has stood resilient against the North Sea since 1811. The print is sustainably produced on textured paper made from 100% recycled plant matter, reflecting both artistic quality and environmental consciousness. Available in A3 and A4 sizes, this artwork brings a piece of maritime history into your space.
Presented here is a retelling of a folktale from the Indian state of Kerala that provides a warning to those who enjoy inflicting pain and humiliation upon others.
The Elephant and the Tailor
Many years ago in a different time, a mahout (1), as regular as the sun rose, escorted his elephant to the river to bathe and wallow in the water. Their route took them through the main street, lined with shops selling different wares and services. After his elephant had finished bathing, he returned home using the same route. The elephant was always very well-behaved becoming a popular character, and a familiar sight.
One morning, a tailor, whose shop they passed daily, offered the elephant a banana. The tailor was amused seeing the elephant take the banana in its trunk and drop it into its mouth, and the elephant enjoyed the snack. Every day after that, the tailor came out and offered the elephant a banana, which it enjoyed and grew to expect, and it became a habit. The tailor had a cruel streak to his character, being someone who gained pleasure from the pain of others, and laughed at their suffering.
One morning he had an idea that he thought would be very funny. As usual, the elephant stopped outside his shop, its trunk extended, expecting to receive a banana.But the tailor held a long sharp needle in his hand in the place of a banana and jabbed its trunk as it went to take hold, causing the poor beast sudden pain and shock. The elephant was stunned, disappointed, and bewildered at the cruel trick, but the tailor thought it was a great joke and spent the rest of the day laughing. The mahout was angry with the tailor but thought it better to continue to the river than make a scene. The other shopkeepers and their customers who saw what the cruel tailor had done were appalled.
Although the needle had hurt the elephant, it was not so much the pain as the insult it perceived it had suffered that offended. However, the elephant was intelligent. Like most intelligent beings, it was peace-loving and controlled its pain and anger, much better than lesser beings in similar situations would have done. It could have easily killed the tailor or wrecked his shop if it had wanted. Instead, the elephant took comfort from the calm, soothing words offered by his mahout, who glowered angrily at the laughing tailor. Although disappointed and humiliated, the elephant serenely continued to the river to wash and wallow as usual, as if nothing had happened.
Nevertheless, as it bathed, its thoughts dwelt on the nasty trick the cruel tailor had played and came up with an idea. As it finished bathing, it filled its trunk full of dirty water and began the return journey home through the main street with the mahout riding upon its back.Upon reaching the tailor’s shop, who was still laughing over his cruel trick, the elephant stopped as if waiting for a banana.
In the hope of getting another good laugh, the tailor went out with the needle and held out his hand as if offering a banana, all the time chuckling in anticipation. The elephant slowly, calmly, and deliberately held out its trunk as if to accept a treat. But instead of reaching for the tailor’s hand, it aimed at his head and squirted the contents of its trunk all over the sniggering tailor, drenching him in dirty water!
Once its trunk was empty, the elephant quietly turned and walked sedately home with its mahout sitting on its back, crying with laughter. Seeing how the elephant had unexpectedly turned the tables on the cruel tailor, the other shopkeepers and customers gave a great cheer and applauded as it passed sedately. The mahout could not contain his laughter, crying to the tailor,
“Ha! How does it feel now the joke’s on you!”
The End
Turning The Tables
The story carries a warning to those who mistreat animals. As an animal, the elephant’s natural instinct may caused it to react automatcilly in anger, or self defense, perhaps killing, or injuring the tailor, or wrecking his shop. However, the calm reaction of the elephant, although hurt and disappointed, elevate it above the tailor. Furthermore, its measured response in drenching him with dirty water instead of reacting violently, turned the tables completely on the spiteful tailor elevating the animal above him, and reversing the joke making him the but of humour, while the elephant earned greater respect and admiration.
María Berrío builds dreamworlds from paper—lush, layered utopias filled with resilient women, mythic animals and folkloric echoes. Born in Bogotá and now based in New York, she uses delicate Japanese paper, watercolour skies, and charcoal details to craft large-scale collages that feel both ancient and futuristic. Her women—strong, vulnerable, and wild—are protectors and seekers, often in moments of migration or transformation. Drawing on global mythologies, personal history, and political undercurrents, Berrio creates stories that hover between hope and upheaval, inviting us to imagine a gentler, more powerful world.
Dr Haare Williams MNZM has been Dean of Māori Education and Māori Advisor to the Chief Executive at Unitec. He was General Manager of Aotearoa Radio. He set up a joint venture with the South Seas Film and Television School to train Te Reo speakers as producers and operators in film and television. He has worked closely with iwi claimant communities and was responsible for waka construction and assembly at Waitangi for the 1990 commemorations. He has published poetry, exhibited painting and written for film and television. He was a cultural advisor for the Mayor of Auckland and is Amorangi at the Auckland War Memorial Museum.
Glynnis MacNicol’s I’m Mostly Here to Enjoy Myself is an intimate, decadent and fun memoir about one woman’s quest for unlimited sensory pleasure in mid-life.
Rating: 🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟
Genre: Memoir, Non-fiction, Travel
Publisher: Bonnier
Review in one word: Horny
MacNicol documents her phoenix-like experience of evading those horrible ghosts that women in middle age often face: loneliness, ageing and boredum with life. This is an irresistible memoir about a 46 year old woman throwing off these shackles and throwing caution to the wind and having a hell of a time in Paris during the summer when the world finally escaped COVID.
This is undoubtedly a feminist memoir because author Gynnis MacNicol’s life choices are unconventional and she actively eskews the norms and so-called rights of passage about being a woman, (the annoying tryptch: maiden/mother/crone AKA young and hot/responsible mother/old and irrelevant).
MacNicol rightfully challenges these limiting narratives by taking herself out of lock-down NYC and going to Paris to frolick on the Seine and in chic cafes with expat friends, drink tonnes of good quality wine, scoff excellent French cheese and have a lot of amazing sex with men she meets on anonymous apps.
What I love about this effervescent, fun and exhilarating book is that it challenges all of the limiting no-no-no’s that women hear all their lives.
Instead here’s a woman of a certain age who has liberated herself and is having a great time doing whatever the hell she wants. By doing this she gives all of us permission to do the same. It’s truly glorious in every way to read.
MacNicol lays herself bare and becomes vulnerable in her self-analysis about her choices, but she layers this beautifully with vivid prose that is universally understandable to any woman who is treading the less travelled path in life. Her decadent and sumptuous descriptions of Paris I found particularly enjoyable because it is the city of plenty and the city of dreams and this brought to mind my own memories of the place in all of its dayglo personal nostalgia.
About the Author
Glynnis MacNicol is an author and journalist. Her writing has appeared in numerous publications, including The New York Times, The Guardian, and Elle. She is also the author of the critically acclaimed memoir No One Tells You This.
Plants, wind, sun and rain have a vibe and everything natural has a vibe too. An indescribable aura that penetrates outwards and influences our mood, energy levels, ability to think and move through the world.
That’s possibly the most obvious thing anyone could say.
I know I’m not treading new ground here. Another way of saying this is everything has awareness and consciousness and an understanding of their place in the living world.
In my backyard I have a gigantic elephant ear fern that has quietly and without fuss grown as tall as a human man and given out immovable and dense trunk rooted deeply into the soil. No wind or storm could uproot her.
Some of her leaves are broken, some are silvery and glimmering like they’re covered in the tears of gods, these each skyward in supplication and joy as the spring sun beams down like a caressing gift. Her ‘elephant ears’ quivver with delight and yet she’s still humble.
From this being, I learned that I can’t pretend to be something I’m not and to be accepting of my current state and that the strongest growth always happens gradually, in humble increments adding up to a magnificent achievement. Sure there will always be something or someone bigger but beauty…abundant beauty is still found in the ordinary.
I met a nervous ladybug on walk yesterday , she hesitated on a log and close to my seemingly gigantic swollen flesh of my index finger and tried to scramble away in confusion. She didn’t know if I meant her harm, but I meant her only a long life and health and she eventually touched my finger and then walked away into the bush.
If you stop, put down your headphones and listen to the thrum of bees, the roar of the ocean or the melody of birds and you listen with your sixth sense you will hear the wisdom of the more-than-human.
Content Catnip 
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