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scbr's review against another edition
2.0
Als je de auteur niet kent van zijn werk is het moeilijk te volgen/je in te leven.
chicken_s's review against another edition
emotional
hopeful
inspiring
reflective
sad
slow-paced
4.5
anishabhakta's review against another edition
5.0
beautiful and heartbreaking despite knowing how it ends
gabricarbs's review against another edition
dark
emotional
informative
inspiring
reflective
sad
slow-paced
3.75
casparb's review against another edition
5.0
still the best
Derek is probably my favourite British director & I've been aware of this text for a while since it holds an esteemed place as a kind of sacred text of ecopoetics. So I had high expectations & they were even exceeded I adored this and I'm going to absolutely fail at selling it to anybody
The book came about through Derek deciding to journal the process of developing a garden at his cottage in Dungeness. This is much madder than it sounds - Dungeness is kind of known as 'Britain's only desert' & I recommend a google images for the strangeness. He's growing where nobody would. But the text develops, gorgeously, into a semimemoir of both queer vibrance in the 60s-70s-80s and, unavoidably, the AIDS genocide. This makes the text increasingly heart-wringing- he's plainly dying as the journal progresses & he knows it. Some days the entry is the news of another dead friend. It's perfectly despairingly Jarman I love him lots wish he was still here
Derek is probably my favourite British director & I've been aware of this text for a while since it holds an esteemed place as a kind of sacred text of ecopoetics. So I had high expectations & they were even exceeded I adored this and I'm going to absolutely fail at selling it to anybody
The book came about through Derek deciding to journal the process of developing a garden at his cottage in Dungeness. This is much madder than it sounds - Dungeness is kind of known as 'Britain's only desert' & I recommend a google images for the strangeness. He's growing where nobody would. But the text develops, gorgeously, into a semimemoir of both queer vibrance in the 60s-70s-80s and, unavoidably, the AIDS genocide. This makes the text increasingly heart-wringing- he's plainly dying as the journal progresses & he knows it. Some days the entry is the news of another dead friend. It's perfectly despairingly Jarman I love him lots wish he was still here