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This is basically what my Rambling-page used to be. Mainly essay-like content and book reviews/discussions, but with the occasional other thing potentially thrown in here and there. I’m still undecided on whether I’ll be putting full articles here, or if it’ll be the summary with a link to the full text, so this is very likely to change quite drastically in time. Stay tuned!

Det måste finnas en väg ut ur det här samhället by Göran Greider

This book resonates deeply with me. It begins with a recollection of Greiders youth, and the reasons he became a socialist. While not entirely relatable to me (I was born ca 30 years after the events he speaks of), it is insightful and interests me to look at the parallels in how I ended up being a socialist. After that, he gets into the nitty gritty of the double crisis (financial and climate), which makes for an interesting read. These are things that I've studied, to some extent, as well as things that I've had a deep interest in since I was a pre-teen. His analysis is great and he brings up things I hadn't considered, as well as things I had a hard time to put into words.
Aside from the contents in and of itself I love the way that Greider writes. Reading this book reminded me that I ought to read (and write) more Swedish texts. I can tell that

there is some overlap in the media we've consumed, or at least the kind of writing styles we enjoy. His style is classical in a way that a 2000s-kid (such as myself) would see it, and the way that his sentences sometimes nearly are too long really resonates with me, in case that isn't obvious. I always see that as an ache to put as much as possible information down, and it really sparks joy.

Epiphyllum Oxypetalum

The queen of the night, otherwise known as True night blooming cereus, the Dutchman’s pipe cactus or Epiphyllum oxypetalum, has been part of my life for as long as I can remember. My grandmother has a great specimen in one of her windows, which she got from a castle nearby. I always thought it was strange and somewhat spooky looking, in all its spindly glory, but in an intriguing way. I spent many evenings reading comic books right under its unsettling form, and today I have my own specimen that came from one of her very cuttings. I even had the fortune to be visiting one night when it happened to bloom - the only time it has, as far as I’ve been told.

Ever since I originally wrote this little essay I’ve grown even more enamoured with the Epiphyllum oxypetalum, to the extent where I’ve been told my long-winded rambling about it is “borderline erotic” because I get so excited. Honestly, I take that as a compliment - is there anything to be more proud of than being truly passionate about something?

Hon vars hjärta var som mitt by Göran Greider

This book tells the story of Dan Andersson -- a Swedish poet (and, as it happens, my favorite poet overall) -- and his lover, Märta Larsson. The story is based on historical events, but Greider took the liberty to tell it in a manner that is more akin to a love story. As such, the events depicted may vary in accuracy. This, as far as I'm concerned, was the absolute right decision to make. The end result is incredibly sweet, and really lets the tragedy of it all shine. Besides, there have been many academic retellings of Dan Anderssons life and will likely be more to come. While they most definitely have both a place and a charm, the unique approach really makes this book stick out from the rest.

Falling angels by Tracy Chevalier

I came across this book by complete chance as I was looking for fabrics in a local second hand shop. I thought the name ("När änglar faller" in Swedish) sounded mildly interesting, and the back of the book was nice. I was surprised to find that the book I pulled out was written by the same woman who wrote the book about the girl with the pearl earring that I read when I was about twelve. That book was a bit over my maturity level at that point, but I really did love it, so of course I bought this one too. Besides, it was just 27 kr...

The picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde

This book really fits with my neurosises. I am a bit too keen on aesthetics, and as such it felt… almost damning. I have found myself immensely invested in how people dress and hold themselves ever since I began this particular read, and not always in a very positive way. However, it has also had a somewhat impact in making me dress better, even when I have had less energy than usual. Is that the moral of the story? No way. I saw Dorian's mental and moral decline and it seems I went “well, it’s not like I have a painting in the attic”.