An Ode to the Writer’s Bungalow

The late Ray Bradbury, at home in his not-so-big-house in Cheviot Hills.

Defenders of mansions replacing smaller, individually designed homes insist that these are needed, and if they can be paid for, why should they not be available? They are a reward, an entitlement; the natural product of both the confidence in the housing market and the inherent confidence of the American persona. But to some observers, the McMansion is less the natural culmination of a “man’s home is his castle” ethos, and instead the apex of American isolationism.

Sarah Jane Stratford
Home and History in the Fiction of Los Angeles”
The Los Angeles Review of Books


What does it mean when what you own is essential to who you are? In our everyday grasp of owning things, we tag it materialism, consumerism, consumption. But I trust you’ll agree that the possession of books is not identical to the possession of shoes: Someone with a thousand books is someone you want to talk to; someone with a thousand shoes is someone you suspect of belonging to the Kardashian clan. Books are not objects in the same way that shoes are objects.

via A Bibliophile’s Defense of Physical Books | The New Republic.

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