But that’s far from the truth.

Call me an eternal optimist if you like, but I’d like to believe that humanity is so much more than war, capitalism, colonialism, the destruction of ecosystems, or all those things that, insidiously, make us more and more cynical every day.

But no matter how much goodwill or positivity we have, it can be hard to stay optimistic. Especially when we try to keep up with the news even a little bit.

• So how can we regain our balance and land on our feet while keeping faith in humanity?

• How can we continue to believe that we’re capable of finding solutions to environmental problems, of transcending our egos, and of building something beautiful?

And, of course, without falling into false utopianism. By being clear-sighted, but without sinking into cynicism.

By drawing inspiration from works of fiction, of course.

These have the power to transport us to another world, to introduce us to other realities. Their twists and turns and their endings can inspire us about possible futures and help us appreciate everyday life.

Lately, movies have been my main source of escape.

So here’s a selection of six movies to help you regain your faith in humanity when you’re feeling discouraged.

Appreciate the beauty of the world

Perfect Days

Wim Wenders, screenplay by Wim Wenders and Takuma Takasaki
2023
Germany and Japan

Hirayama cleans public restrooms in Tokyo. While others might be discouraged by such a low-status job, he seems to tackle it with surprising dedication. We follow the rhythm of his daily life, which is disrupted by a visit from his niece and an unscrupulous coworker.

Through him, we come to understand how living a simple life can be rewarding and why it’s worth keeping going. It’s a film about everyday life, routines, observing the world around us, and savoring the little, ordinary things.

If I had to recommend just one movie that fits the theme of this article, it would undoubtedly be this one!

Kiki la petite sorcière

Hayao Miyazaki
1989
Japon

Kiki is now 13 years old and must go to another town to begin her training as a witch. As she sets off, she takes her flying broom, her cat Jiji, and her resourcefulness with her.

A film from Studio Ghibli and Miyazaki simply had to be on this list!

I chose Kiki’s Delivery Service because the film evokes feelings of nostalgia and wonder that are a balm for the soul. It captures good cheer, tenderness, and the transition to adulthood in all its beauty.

On Breaking the Cycle of Violence

Better Days

Directed by Derek Tsang; screenplay by Lam Wing Sum, Li Yuan, and Xu Yimeng
2019
China and Hong Kong
Based on the novel, In His Youth, In Her Beauty, by Jiu Yuexi

Better Days exposes school bullying in the highly competitive and stressful environment of a Chinese high school. Chen Nian, one of the top students in her class, becomes the new target of bullies. She befriends the young Xiao Bei, who promises to protect her.

It’s a sensitive and moving film—some might call it a bit too melodramatic—but I appreciated it for its raw, logical, and beautiful screenplay, which surprises us while still making perfect sense.

Even though it’s sad (I’ve rarely cried so much while watching a movie, sniff), it’s also inspiring. It’s one of the first times I’ve really seen a movie that offered a somewhat satisfying solution to how we can break the cycles of violence. It’s a question that’s been on my mind for the past year, because even though we want to see the beauty, we also have to believe that things can change.

* Check out the list of content warnings, it’s intense!

Moonlight

Barry Jenkins
2016
United States

We follow three stages of Chiron’s life, his childhood, adolescence, and adulthood, as he struggles to understand who he is in an environment where vulnerability is often perceived as a weakness.

Moonlight is a deeply sensitive film, carried by magnificent direction and moving performances. What struck me most was the way it addresses identity, sexuality, family, and above all, masculinity. All while avoiding moralizing.

It’s a film about the wounds we carry, the roles we adopt to survive, and the cycles of violence that repeat themselves. But it’s also a profound reflection on forgiveness, the possibility of change, and the difficulty (as well as the beauty) of accepting who we are.

On Mutual Support Despite Our Differences

Project Hail Mary

Phil Lord and Christopher Miller, screenplay by Drew Goddard
2026
United States
Based on the novel by Andy Weir

Ryland Grace, a middle school science teacher, wakes up aboard a spaceship with no memory of who he is. Thanks to his sharp mind and the help of an alien named Rocky, he learns that he is on a mission while Earth is dying. Through flashbacks, he recalls his past on Earth while searching for a way to save the world.

This movie is the very definition of giving hope for humanity!

How can a human and a rocky alien work together to save their respective planets? On top of that, they find themselves all alone on their spaceship.

It’s funny, it’s inspiring, and I can’t wait to take the time to watch it again, as well as read Andy Weir’s book.

The Lord of the Rings

Peter Jackson
2001–2003
United States and New Zealand
Based on the novel by J.R.R. Tolkien

The hobbit Frodo Baggins and other members of the Fellowship of the Ring embark on a quest to fight evil. A classic worth watching if you’ve never had the chance, and worth rewatching if you’re looking for a breath of hope.

Through an epic adventure, the film explores the power of friendship in the fight against evil and the corruption of power, but it also offers hope that good can prevail!

In J.R.R. Tolkien’s work, hope is not a passive wish for success, but an active moral choice. It is the pursuit of doing what is right, even when defeat seems inevitable.

♥ 🌷Thanks you so much for reading this article!🌷 ♥

This article is a translation of the French version I published last fall in my other newsletter, Crush Littéraire.

Why do I love reading?

It’s a very simple question, considering it’s an activity that takes up a large part of my time. ⏳

To answer this question, I need to take a trip down memory lane.

I’ve always loved reading… to a certain extent. Around the age of 10, I mainly read fantasy books from my school’s tiny library. We were rewarded with a small mille-feuille pastry for every thousand pages we read. I’ll always remember that at the end of one term, I’d read so many pages that I received a whole cake. Yum! I have few memories of what I was reading back then. Maybe I was just rushing through it so I could eat more sugar.

During my teenage years, I started reading stacks of Harlequin romance novels with my mom, much to the delight of my romantic spirit. I remember sitting under the big tree in our yard and devouring the pages at a breakneck pace.

I was, however, not very inclined to take an interest in the school’s required reading. Literature was for a different kind of person ; a more intellectual one (and there’s certainly still a part of me that thinks that way). I did the bare minimum to get a good grade, period. I think part of me was probably interested in exploring reading, but I wasn’t ready, or simply didn’t want to admit it.

I’ve always mentally associated literature with a certain degree of snobbery and elitism, rightly or wrongly.

I then practically gave up reading for a long time; between college and starting my first job, I read sporadically, whatever happened to fall into my hands.

It wasn’t until the last three years that I got back into it. Thanks to the public library, with free access to thousands of books just a few minutes from my home. I slowly explored different styles and started taking a serious interest in them, to the point where I began jotting down my thoughts on each book. One thing led to another, my interest grew, and I discovered what kind of books appeal to me and why.

And then, eventually, I started a newsletter and an Instagram account on the subject… which is ironic for someone who used to think it was a bit snobby.

Another way to frame the question (probably more accurate and less biased) would be: Why do I read?

The Hope of Becoming a Better Person

I believe that reading allows us to grow as human beings. Committing more seriously to the process, with a CommonPlace Book and by jotting down my thoughts on each book I read, has enriched my life and shaped my values.

Reading strengthens our identity and shapes our personality, in addition to broadening our knowledge of the world. I love reading to better understand myself. To put into words the emotions that swirl inside me ; emotions that are often chaotic.

Words become balms for my wounds; sentences enrich the best moments of my life. Books allow me to move forward, to look back, and to lose myself somewhere in between.

Immersing myself in the lives of others… A friend recently told me that being an adult means accepting that we have to make choices. We can’t do everything. We can’t experience everything.

But reading makes me feel like I’m living a thousand lives. It helps me understand the difference. When I read, I accept, without judgment. I try to understand, more so than with any other medium. One day, I’m an explorer in the 20th century; the next week, I’m wandering the streets of a dystopian future. I like to believe that it makes me more open-minded.

It seems this isn’t just a personal feeling. In 2013, a study demonstrated the benefits of reading fiction for our brains. 🧠This would make us better able to interpret facial emotions, but also to understand other humans and what’s going on in their minds.

Empathy can be developed through reading fiction, since it simulates real-life situations! An excellent article in Québec Science (in french) explores the benefits and challenges of reading.

For the sake of style (?)

I recently came across Rayne Fisher-Quann’s Internet Princess newsletter and her piece on poser ethics in reading. Do we read to show off, to get noticed as a reader? She tackles the subject head-on, with disarming sincerity.

Poser ethics means choosing the book you’re going to read on the bus because the cover looks good, not because you were actually reading it. You want to present yourself as a reader of that particular book. It also means carefully selecting the books on your bookshelves. Placing the classics where visitors can see them and relegating romance novels to the back of the closet, because we’ve consciously decided how we want to be perceived.

Some even use it as a tool for seduction. Last summer, the example of men taking photos of themselves reading Bell Hooks’ On Love went viral on social media. The interest in the book in question may not have been in its content (a thought-provoking exploration of the nature and complexity of love) but rather in what being associated with it suggests. This pretense is supposedly meant to attract women’s attention. Over the past year, the phenomenon, dubbed “performative masculinity”, has been thoroughly ridiculed on social media through memes, satirical videos, and even ironic performance contests.

Women aren’t immune to reading performance either. In a video, YouTuber The Book Leo outlines three archetypes of female readers found on social media:

• The Book Girlie: She reads romance and romantasy, spends a lot of time on TikTok or Instagram, and collects colorful book covers.

• The Intellectual (Sylvia-Plath-Joan-Didion-Camus-Secret-History): She writes with a pen in her Moleskine notebook and reads classics in a dimly lit library.

• The “Real and Authentic” Reader: She criticizes the first two as performative and fake.

These categories are restrictive by nature, and it’s likely that no one truly fits into one or the other, but they still offer an interesting insight. The notion of performance is reflected in the actions and aesthetics adopted to conform to an archetype. For example, we might adopt a certain style of dress or tailor our reading choices based on the category we want to belong to, rather than out of genuine interest.

The phenomenon isn’t surprising, but it’s still disheartening. Each group criticizes the others, believing itself to be more legitimate or authentic. These archetypes also tend to feed us pre-packaged opinions and erode our critical thinking.

Beyond this phenomenon, social media still has some significant advantages. If you really love a specific genre of books, you can find a community to discuss your latest reads, get recommendations, and much more.

You just have to remember to keep a sense of perspective.

Ultimately, do I read just to show off?

One question remains: at what point does presenting oneself as a reader cease to stem from a sincere interest and become mere showmanship—or stem from “poser ethics”? And, secondly, is there still something to be gained from this aesthetic?

I have to admit that I’d never really asked myself these questions before I got into social media and wanted to share my growing passion for literature. One thing is certain: a few years ago, I wasn’t at all open about my love for romance novels. I was ashamed of it, and it’s sad to say. I plead guilty to hiding the books I was reading right before guests arrived so they wouldn’t ask me about them.

• Is my desire to broaden my horizons by reading more literature partly due to wanting to be seen as a more serious reader?

To be honest, by choosing to share what I’m reading on social media, I’m further strengthening the ties between reading and my identity. The line between authenticity and performance is therefore particularly difficult to draw. Perhaps it’s only once we accept that we want to be perceived in a certain way that we can begin to ask ourselves the right questions and reflect on the origins or foundations of our actions.

♥ 🌷Thanks you so much for reading this article!🌷 ♥

This article is a translation of the French version I published last fall in my other newsletter, Crush Littéraire.

Yet, despite the narrative’s temporal and historical scope, it is above all the characters who form its heart:

• Sunja, a 16-year-old girl who grew up in a fishing village in Korea in 1930;

• Hansu, a wealthy, shrewd, and manipulative merchant;

• Isak, an optimistic and generous priest;

• Sunja’s mother and her maids; and Isak’s family.

Through their eyes, we experience Japan’s colonization of Korea, their exile to that country, the impacts of World War II, and then the 1980s.

In doing so, Min Jin Lee introduces us to a little-known history: that of Koreans who settled in Japan before 1945. They are called Zainichi, a term meaning “residing in Japan.” Even today, this diaspora faces discrimination.

The focus is thus on “infra-history.” The stories of ordinary people who don’t make the headlines but form the foundation of a nation. These stories fade into the background in the face of more grandiose narratives, are forgotten, and disappear from collective memory.

The book is on The New York Times’ list of the 100 best books of the 21st century. It has been highly praised by critics, and as part of my personal curriculum to hone my literary criticism skills, I set myself the challenge of writing my own humble analysis of it.

So here it is!

The Novel’s Origins

Presented and described with finesse, readers are drawn into the characters’ thoughts through an omniscient third-person narrative. In an interview, Min Jin Lee states that this is the only way she can imagine writing. She drew particular inspiration from 18th-century novels, including George Eliot’s Middlemarch. Although this form of narration is no longer as popular as it once was, the author has managed to make it incredibly effective.

To write this 622-page tome, Min Jin Lee spent more than thirty years writing, researching, and revising her manuscript. The idea for the book came to the author in 1989, while she was studying at Yale. An American missionary living in Japan came to speak about the social discrimination faced by people of Korean descent in the country.

In this lecture, she recounts the story of a young boy who took his own life. After going through his belongings, his parents discovered messages left by other students: “Die, die, die,” “Go back to your country.” Lee said she was shocked by the inhumane treatment a person could endure. It was this lecture that inspired the novel.

After leaving her career as a lawyer in 1998 for health reasons, she set about writing the manuscript. In 2003, dissatisfied with the results, she set it aside to focus on what would become her first novel, Free Food for Millionaires, a saga published in 2007. In 2008, she moved to Japan for four years and conducted numerous interviews with Koreans living there.

It was not until 2017, however, that the novel was finally published.

“A woman’s lot is to suffer”

Across generations, women’s circumstances have changed, but they all experience suffering, albeit in different ways. It’s clear that, particularly in the past, it was considered virtuous for a woman to sacrifice her body, her time, and her life in service to her family. Over time, this leads to frustration and resentment. This is true both for those who try to free themselves from this suffering and live a little more freely, and for those who have carried their families on their shoulders and who, in the twilight of their lives, wonder what it was all for.

In an interview, the author explains that she has observed that, on the contrary, in America, we romanticize our lives to such an extent that, in our quest to always feel good and to pretend that suffering doesn’t exist, we end up resenting the very fact of feeling anything other than happiness. The novel also addresses, with a resolutely feminist perspective, the perception of women’s bodies throughout history and the issue of sexism.

Hope and Intergenerational Trauma

« She had never seen her son talk to a girl ; most village girls avoided the sight of him, and Hoonie would have known enough not to want something he could not have- this forbearance was something that any normal peasant would have accepted about his life and what he was allowed to desire. » p.5

The theme of acceptance comes up repeatedly in the novel. And I think it’s fitting to have this quote right at the very beginning—on page 5! It’s as if the book’s conclusion were being handed to us on a silver platter, but we still have to wade through 500 pages or more to truly understand it. I’m currently studying the art of story construction a bit, and this is called a narrative promise: the tone and the type of story are established right from the start so that the reader knows what to expect for the rest of the narrative.

Later on, we encounter characters who each represent the opposite of this premise. Some refuse to accept their fate. They’ve learned to dream, to hope, and perhaps to want more than they can ever achieve. But harsh reality and our conscience always catch up with us, and the lies we tell (no matter how pleasant they may be) weigh heavily on us. In a sort of contrast, other characters have not cultivated hope and sink into melancholy. I believe the author wants us to understand that we must find a balance between the two. It is when the characters finally manage to accept themselves that we arrive at a satisfying resolution.

Racism

I was surprised by the racism toward Koreans in Japan. In my mind, this kind of violent hostility toward other human beings was typical of Western culture. I now realize how naive I was, but also how much I need to deepen my understanding of global issues and broaden my perspective.

“In Seoul, people like me get called Japanese bastards, and in Japan, I’m just another dirty Korean no matter how much money I make or how nice I am.”

On a smaller scale, this got me thinking about a situation I’ve been observing for a long time in my own environment. I’ve lived in several cities (or towns) in Quebec. A recurring theme has been that each place was marked by some form of competition with a neighboring town or region. While this sometimes takes the form of friendly rivalry in sports, I sometimes get the impression that it’s a slippery slope worth watching out for. Very often, we attribute certain character traits or values to people who live on the other side of the river, or just a few kilometers away. These are, on a small scale, signs of a fear of the other, even if he or she isn’t very far away.

The definition of a nation proposed in the book, while it doesn’t provide an answer, certainly gives us food for thought:

“I propose the following definition of the nation: it is an imagined political community-and imagined as both inherently limited and sovereign. It is imagined because the members of even the smallest nation will never know most of their fellow-members, meet them, or even hear of them, yet in the minds of each lives the image of their communion.... Communities are to be distinguished, not by their falsity/genuineness, but by the style in which they are imagined.... Finally, [the nation] is imagined as a community, because, regardless of the actual inequality and exploitation that may prevail in each, the nation is conceived as a deep, horizontal comradeship. Ultimately, it is this fraternity that makes it possible, over the past two centuries for so many millions of people, not so much to kill, as willing to die for such limited imaginings.” ―Benedict Anderson

Pace and Writing Style

The novel’s pace picks up as the story progresses, and while I preferred the first part, I found myself wondering if this acceleration might be due to our perception of time. Doesn’t everything tend to move faster with industrialization?

I have great admiration for the author’s keen sense of observation. It’s as if she’s understood how to pierce through to a part of the truth via the human soul, as if she doesn’t let herself be fooled by lies, whether those we tell others or those we like to lull ourselves with.

The writing skillfully navigates the line between subtle and striking. It doesn’t dwell on unnecessary descriptions; it simply immerses us in the setting and the characters’ lives. Thus, we’re treated to scenes of gardening, meal preparation, and even the reality of living with others in the same home.

A Meaningful Title

The choice of title is not insignificant.

Pachinko is a game that resembles a vertical billiards table, on which players place bets. In Japan, there are nearly 18,000 parlors housing nearly 5 million machines. Each year, the Pachinko market is worth 174 billion euros—an amount greater than the country’s automobile exports. There are many prejudices against people who work in Pachinko parlors, the majority of whom are Korean.

Nearly one in 11 Japanese people plays Pachinko at least once a week. At the end of the day, there are always more losers than winners, but enough winners to give the losers hope.

It’s rigged. The house always wins! But they play anyway.

In an interview, the author mentions seeing an interesting metaphor in the fate of these characters and in life in general. This is a far cry from American-style novels that portray a future full of possibilities if you work hard enough.

Here, the outcome couldn’t be more uncertain. But what matters is how they approach their lives.

Life is like a game of Pachinko, but we still choose to play.

But what’s the alternative?

♥ 🌷Thanks you so much for reading this article!🌷 ♥

This article is a translation of the French version I published this winter in my other newsletter, Crush Littéraire.

In 2025, young adults spend an average of more than 4 hours a day on their phones, according to a study published by Ofcom in the United Kingdom. In Quebec, a study on screen time among Montreal adults in 2025 found that 23% of people spend more than 4 hours a day on their phones.

Whether we’re scrolling through social media or streaming TV shows, our attention has become a highly sought-after commodity.

Algorithms aim to keep us hooked on their apps for as long as possible so they can show more ads. We remain glued to our screens—whether we want to or not—thanks to a nonstop barrage of content that is often far from satisfying.

The analog trend has been all over social media for the past few months. Many are even calling 2026 the year of the return to analog! It’s part of the “slow living” philosophy and encourages people to question their excessive dependence on digital technology.

It’s a swing back the other way!

Although there’s a certain irony to the trend—after all, sharing on social media how to spend less time on your phone might seem counterintuitive—it still piques our curiosity because it raises important questions:

• What could we do with our time if we weren’t spending it on our phones?

• So how can we reclaim our time in 2026?

In this article, we’ll try to understand what the analog trend is and how to define it. I’ll also try to add some nuance and reflect on what I can take away from it to apply it to my own life.

What is the analog trend?

The definition of “analog” is as follows:

Analog and digital systems are two ways of representing information to be processed. The analog system corresponds to the continuous variation of a concrete physical quantity, whereas in the digital system, information is represented by discrete numerical values in binary form. Both methods are used in telecommunications and electronics. Although the digital method is the more recent one, the storage and retrieval of information using the analog method are still widely used.

Digital media therefore require an “intermediary” (binary code), unlike analog media. Anything that does not need to be converted into binary code to be viewed or listened to is therefore considered analog. The data is stored as-is.

Each medium has its advantages and disadvantages, but over time, digital media has taken the lead due to its convenience and is now the most widely used. However, analog media is still very much present. For example, music enthusiasts continue to swear by the quality of vinyl records (which have even experienced a major resurgence in recent years).

The analog trend does not seem to be limited to this definition.

The movement seems to aim to disconnect from our phones in a variety of ways.

A return to paper notebooks for taking notes, mandalas to color, embroidery kits, and even MP3 players for listening to music.

The idea of not using a cell phone is nothing new. After all, the iPhone has only been around for less than 20 years! But it still seems to offer a much-needed epiphany to an entire generation that has never known the era of record players, flip phones, and screen-free evenings spent simply chatting with friends. It’s an expression of a need for balance—to stop letting technology take over and regain control of our time.

In my research on the subject, I realized that the analog trend seems to be moving in three directions, which are important to distinguish in any analysis:

• the use of physical media to replace streaming platforms,

• the search for ways to limit constant phone use,

• and the adoption of screen-free leisure activities.

Owning physical media such as movies, music, or books

The decision to purchase physical media, such as CDs, DVDs, or vinyl records, may stem, among other things, from a desire to be independent of streaming platforms. For example, to avoid being caught off guard when our favorite series is suddenly removed from Netflix.

We could also cite the example of Amazon and the Kindle.

On February 26, 2025, Amazon removed the option to download e-books to a computer. The only way to read these books was through the Kindle apps, whether on your computer or on a connected device. Owning a file of the book was the only safeguard against Amazon deleting or modifying the book, as well as the only way to keep the books you’ve purchased in the long term. By 2026, the situation had changed, but the principle remains the same: any change to the platform can limit access to what we thought we owned.

When it comes to books, scientific studies show that reading on paper offers a significant advantage for our attention span. It is reportedly easier to concentrate on reading linearly in a paper book than when reading on a screen, which tends to involve skimming.

I think this is part of a trend that deserves to be approached with nuance, because it can quickly become elitist or unrealistic. Unless you’re a collector, starting to keep every analog medium in your home isn’t a solution; it’s not accessible to everyone. It’s expensive, hard to come by, and potentially bulky.

For anyone who’s ever lugged an 800-page brick around in their bag for a whole day of walking, an e-reader can quickly become a necessity.

In my opinion, the solution would be to turn to public libraries and invest more in them!

Aside: I haven’t seen this cited anywhere as a justification for the trend, but streaming also has a significant environmental impact, greater than that of some physical media.

Limit Continuous Phone Use

To spend less time on your phone, you also need to break the habit of relying on it for every aspect of your life. Numerous studies illustrate the impact that checking your phone right before bed can have on your sleep.

Furthermore, a large part of the “analog” trend also involves taking intentional action to regain some control over our time.

Here are a few ideas I’d like to try:

• Taking photos with a Polaroid or film camera. Spending hours sorting through photos from a trip—including a good dozen shots of the same waterfall taken from different angles? Not for me. These photos mostly end up piling up on my hard drive, when I finally get around to transferring them. The truth is, managing this volume of photos has become a burden. I never take the time to look at them on my computer, so I’d like to print them out and put them in an album.

• Replace Spotify playlists with an iPod containing a single playlist. I see the benefit in creating intentional playlists this way.

• Have an alarm clock that isn’t your phone, so you can start the day without automatically reaching for your apps.

• Shop in person instead of online (or at least partly) to avoid spending hours looking at a pair of pants that don’t even fit you well in the end (though that might just be a problem unique to me).

• Writing down your thoughts in a journal or notebook instead of using a note-taking app or your computer;

• Write down important events in a paper calendar.

• Challenge my sense of direction by avoiding the use of Google Maps for trips where I have a good idea of the route.

Analog Hobbies

This is probably the most accessible and interesting part of the movement: trading screen time for tech-free hobbies. It’s this aspect of the trend that answers the question: What could we do with our time if we weren’t spending it on our phones?

Read a book, take up knitting, do puzzles, meet people—the possibilities are endless and truly inspiring!

@thedianelejust put together my analog bag and i love it so much!! what will you have in your bag? 🤍⭐️ #analogbag #analog #whatsinmybag #hobbies #hobbyideas

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As part of this trend, some people have started creating “analog bags” containing everything they need to avoid getting lost in their phones—game books, magazines, sketchbooks, and so on—which they bring along when they want to stop themselves from falling back into the bad habit of scrolling on their phones. This might be for public transit, passing the time in a waiting room, or visiting family.

Of course, you have to be careful not to let it become a source of consumption rather than a pastime. Shopping for items and taking the time to put together your analog bag shouldn’t take precedence over actually engaging in the hobbies themselves. Otherwise, it’s just another way to procrastinate and consume!

But if it works and it’s fun, why not?

There’s certainly a way to turn this into a project and repurpose items that have been gathering dust at the back of our closets for years—an old bag we decorate, a half-used paper notebook we salvage, a book that was gathering dust on a shelf. The key is to make it a habit we integrate into our lives before it becomes a consumer project.

For my part, without knowing the exact term for it, I’ve often gotten into the habit of carrying a notepad and a book with me. When I visit my family, I often bring watercolors, games, and a stack of books that’s way too big; it’s certainly more wishful thinking than anything else, I never have time to do it all, but bringing them along is comforting in its own way.

I also benefit from learning to slow down and not feel the need to keep myself busy every single moment, but I believe this is likely a skill—one that needs to be practiced just like any other. The transition from scrolling through my phone to spending my free time in an analog way, to learning to do nothing, is no easy feat.

A few ideas :

• Get a paper cookbook to keep track of yout favorites

• Join your town’s chess club instead of playing online

• Go train with a group instead of practicing alone at home in front of a video

• Send letters by mail to friends and family

• Enhance your Commonplace Book with drawings and watercolors

What can we take away from this?

Digital technology isn’t all bad, though! Watching a YouTube video to learn how to knit, staying connected with friends on the other side of the world, researching quantum physics because you just watched a movie and suddenly feel a surge of curiosity… The possibilities are endless.

I believe that wanting to change solely because of a trend is futile. But when these trends address a real need, they become interesting: they can serve as a starting point for reflecting on our lifestyle and help us adjust it so that it’s better aligned with our values and the person we want to become.

So the question wouldn’t be, “Do you want to lead an analog life” but rather, “What do you think that could bring you?” and “Which aspects resonate with who you want to be?”

We might also ask, “What does digital technology offer me, and at what point does it become a burden?” or “Which digital habits do I want to change to improve my quality of life?”

It’s an invitation to take a step back and assess what might make us feel better.

And perhaps the challenge isn’t to reject digital technology, but to regain control over our attention.

In your opinion, is this a movement that’s here to stay?

♥ 🌷Thanks you so much for reading this article!🌷 ♥

This article is a translation of the French version I published in my other newsletter, Crush Littéraire.

I’ve decided to explore how to become a better literary critic. Since I have no formal training in the subject, I feel that my opinions tend to remain superficial, and I’d like to learn how to analyze, understand, and interpret works in a more thoughtful way.

To do this, I’ve based my approach on the course outline developed by Saiyana Ramisetty and shared in her newsletter, Yana’s Reveries. I like the modular structure, which incorporates objectives, readings, questions, and exercises.

Well, my approach is far from being as detailed or ambitious, but it’s still an inspiration! I suggest you check out the tremendous work she’s done if you’re interested.

To put together the curriculum, I chose to include a first module on critical thinking and to incorporate texts that discuss this topic. The selection includes, among other things, books available at the public library or online.

To put what I’ve learned into practice, I decided to analyze a work and write an essay on the subject. It was somewhat by chance that *Pachinko* emerged as my choice. It was available in both French and English at my local library, and I wanted to read it at the same time as my partner. After each chapter, we pause to discuss it and explore a series of questions. This leads to many very interesting conversations! My assignment is to then share this analysis with you here (so you’ll get to see what I’ve learned).

Without further ado, here’s the syllabus in question!

Course Objectives

The goal of this curriculum is not to read more, but to learn to read critically by taking more time to process what I read. I want to read more attentively and carefully, with the intention of transforming my reflections into analytical and opinion pieces that are relevant to others.

My goal is to develop a practice of critical writing in my personal life. I want to know how to interpret a work, what references I need to seek out, and what kind of analysis to apply as I read.

The ultimate goal is not to master a “list” of texts, but to find my own critical voice. I want to be able to understand works, engage in dialogue with critics who have come before me, as well as with other readers.

Thus, this learning module combines theoretical texts to inform my critical writing, while the analysis of Pachinko aims to refine my perspective as a reader.

Guiding Questions

• What makes a critical interpretation shed light on a work, rather than simply summarizing it?

• In what ways is criticism itself a form of literary writing?

• Define the literary concepts of theme, motivation, tone, narrative rhythm, narrative voice, allegory, intertextuality, and narrative arc that constitute a work of literature.

• What is the importance of literature and literary criticism in society?

Module: The Notebook and the Critical Eye

Objective: To understand criticism as a practice of attention, memory, and subjectivity.

Main Texts:

• Marguerite Duras, Écrire

• Toni Morrisson, The Source of Self-Regard: Selected Essays, Speeches, and Meditations

• bell hook, Teaching to Transgress, Education as the Practice of Freedom

• Joan Didion, On Keeping a Notebook (1968)

• Zadie Smith, Feel free (essais)

• Annie Dillard, En vivant, en écrivant (extraits)

Questions:

• How do a personal journal or essay foster a critical perspective?

• What role does memory (and its distortions) play in the act of criticism?

Assignments:

Summarize the various readings and note the relevant passages.

Exercise - Critical Reading of Pachinko

Objective of the exercise:

To learn how to read a contemporary work not only as fiction, but also as a cultural and social artifact, using the tools of literary criticism.

Main text:

• Min Jin Lee, Pachinko (2017).

Summary of the novel:

Pachinko follows the story of a Korean family immigrating to Japan. From a small fishing village on a Korean island to the big city of Osaka, their destinies are turned upside down over four generations.

Incorporation into the book club

I’ll begin exploring the work by reading it with my boyfriend. Since we’re both reading the book at the same time, we’ll answer four questions per chapter.

Lists of questions to answer for Pachinko found online.

It will be interesting to see how we each interpret scenes differently and how our answers to the questions differ. I think these discussions will help enrich my critical perspective and allow me to explore literary concepts (themes, motivation, tone, etc.) more deeply. This should enable me to analyze the work in a conscious and thoughtful way as I read.

Possible Critical Readings:

To enrich this process, I want to broaden my perspective by exploring critical and theoretical readings:

• Academic articles on *Pachinko* (themes of diaspora, Korean identity in Japan, intergenerational transmission) to deepen my analysis of the work.

• Literary reviews in magazines (to compare different perspectives) to reflect on my own opinion in light of what has been published.

• Essays on diaspora literature in general, with the aim of understanding which other works Pachinko can be compared to.

Critical Questions:

• What central themes structure the novel?

• What role does the narrative form play in the telling of the story?

• How is the diaspora portrayed across generations?

• How was the work received by society?

• How does *Pachinko* illustrate the importance of translation and literary globalization?

How does *Pachinko* compare to other works about the diaspora?

Analysis Exercise:

Write a 3,000-word critical review of Pachinko, incorporating references from the assigned readings as well as the critical questions.

Brief reflection on reading in pairs as a method of analysis.

Next curriculum?

For my next curriculum, the possibilities are endless… I’d like to explore the fantasy genre from its origins to the present day, and I’m particularly intrigued by Dostoevsky’s exploration of the concepts of good and evil.

As with all trends, the personal reading list trend is something you can take or leave depending on your interests. I’ve adopted a fairly comprehensive approach, but it can be as simple as a single book and that’s already a step in the right direction!

♥ 🌷Thanks you so much for reading this article!🌷 ♥

This article is a translation of the French version I published last fall in my other newsletter, Crush Littéraire.

One of Babel’s, the hit 2022 dark academia novel Babel or the Necessity of Violence by R.F. Kuang, most famous quotes is:

Why? Because it would be simply impossible to translate a text exactly, with all the necessary nuances.

Although I’ve always considered translation work to be important, I must admit that I never fully realized just how important it is. Machine translation tools are incredibly effective, and they make us forget the value of exercising our judgment and reflecting on the consequences of the words we use.

In truth, a word in one language doesn’t always translate to its etymological equivalent (a word derived from the same root).

❗️For example, “demande” in French does not have the same meaning as “demands” in English, which refers to a “requirement.” In French, the word refers more to expressing a desire or sharing a need. We should therefore write “requests” instead.

Some words are polysemous and therefore have multiple definitions depending on the context.

In fact, terrible mistakes have resulted not only from poor translations but also from amusing anecdotes or even distortions of the language.

“During a visit to China, Montréal Mayor Jean Drapeau, speaking through his Chinese interpreter, invited his audience to “hit his brother when he is drunk” (battre son frère quand il est ivre). Surprised to hear the mayor advocate such violence, the journalists requested a transcript of his speech. The mystery was solved when they discovered that the mayor had in fact said, “strike while the iron is hot” (battre le fer quand il est chaud).”

For more interesting historical facts around traduction: Through the Lens of History: Historic, fateful or comical translation errors

📘 Learning more about translation makes me want to read in my second language, English. In addition to helping me learn the language, it will allow me to get closer to the original text and the author’s intentions.

Lately, I’ve also realized that I mainly read French-language books, or books written in English and then translated into French.

I think I’d benefit from broadening my horizons.

After all, a language is also a worldview.

Well, we can all agree that I won’t become multilingual overnight. 🗺️ But why not read a book written in Spanish and translated into French? And so on for several other languages?

Babel: A Novel About Translation, Power, and Resistance

The latest imaginary world I’ve immersed myself in is Babel, a book that straddles several genres: historical fiction, fantasy, and Dark Academia.

The magical system is based on what gets lost in translation between languages. Words from different languages, with varying definitions, are inscribed on silver bars to generate magic. The story is set in the 1830s in Oxford.

The story begins with Robin Swift, a young orphan from Canton who is placed under the guardianship of a professor and travels with him to England to learn English, Latin, and Greek, in addition to Mandarin. Armed with all this knowledge, the young man is invited to study at Babel, a prestigious translation institute in Oxford. Alongside his classmates—with whom he quickly befriends—he gradually comes to understand the institute’s place in the nation’s economy and its role in the Empire’s colonial ambitions.

📝 This is a story sprinkled with footnotes, linguistic concepts, and historical details.

Far from being repetitive or tedious to read, I actually found these additions particularly interesting. They allowed me to immerse myself even more deeply in the story. Although it’s a daunting tome the story flows quickly and the action unfolds at a relentless pace.

I was charmed by the friendship that developed between the protagonists, shocked by the plot twists, dazzled by the magical system, and left reeling by the ending…

In short, I loved it! Definitely a favorite. ❤️

♥ 🌷Thanks you so much for reading this article!🌷 ♥

Summer is the season for trips to the beach, evenings on the patio, and picnics in the park. Whether enjoyed with ice cream, lemonade, or a morning cup of tea, these books are the perfect companions for our endless summer days.

There is something about summer reading that feels different from reading during the rest of the year. Maybe it’s because we finally have a little more time. Maybe it’s because books travel with us more easily: tucked into a beach bag, balanced on a café table, or waiting patiently in a carry-on between destinations.

Summer books become part of our memories. 🏖️🩴☀️📚

So here are five recommendations and a couple of book suggestions that are also on my summer reading list!

Bonjour Tristesse — Françoise Sagan

If you have never read any books by Françoise Sagan, the late twentieth-century French author, Bonjour Tristesse seems like the perfect place to start. It’s her first book, but also one of her most popular. Part of the appeal, for me, is the setting itself. Few things say summer reading quite like the French Riviera. This novel is as elegant, devastating and captures the feeling of a lazy, muggy summer like nothing else.

At just 188 pages, you can read it in an afternoon!

“Bonjour Tristesse. The villa is magnificent, the summer scorching, the Mediterranean all too close. Cécile is seventeen. All she knows of love is kisses, dates, and weariness. Not for long. Her widowed father is a cheerful devotee of fleeting, inconsequential affairs. They have fun, they need no one, they are happy. The visit of a kind-hearted, intelligent, and calm woman disrupts this delightful chaos. How can they ward off the threat?”

all about love — bell hooks

In this book, Bell Hooks reflects on love through introspection, an exploration of the literature on the subject, and the presentation of various ideas. She challenges patriarchal culture by proposing alternative ways to love better, simply.

Among other things, she suggests adopting a definition of love so that the concept is no longer a kind of mystical vagueness, but rather becomes an action, a verb. The narrative is accessible, poignant, and relevant.

It’s sure to give you plenty to think about.

What I appreciated most is that Hooks writes about love in a way that feels both philosophical and practical. She isn’t interested in grand romantic gestures as much as the everyday choices that shape our relationships. It’s the kind of book that makes you underline entire paragraphs and then spend the next few days thinking about them while washing dishes or going for a walk.

After the Quake — Haruki Murakami

Murakami has a talent for creating stories that feel slightly dreamlike without losing their emotional core. Even when strange things happen, his characters remain deeply human. These stories were written in the aftermath of the 1995 Kobe earthquake, and although the disaster remains mostly in the background, its presence shapes the lives of everyone involved. The result is a collection that feels reflective, melancholic, and ultimately hopeful.

I loved the short story Honey Pie and how the main character comes to terms with himself. His imagination takes flight again thanks to childlike hope. The illustrations were also beautiful on the french version. Just what you need to delight your eyes and fuel your daydreams. A gentle, comforting book, like a hug.

A read you can finish in just a few hours.

Beach Read — Emily Henry

A beautiful romance that warms the heart!

I wasn’t expecting it, but honestly, I started it at 4 p.m. and finished at midnight. A full evening of reading to finish this book, which took me on an emotional roller coaster.

I finally understand why Emily Henry is so popular; I can’t wait to read her other books! It’s the kind of book that’s funny, touching, makes my heart leap in my chest, sexy, sweet, and romantic. Other relevant themes are explored, such as grief, creativity, and forgiveness.

What surprised me most was how emotionally invested I became in the characters. You know that wonderful reading experience where you keep saying “just one more chapter” and suddenly realize it’s midnight? This was that book for me. It’s a perfect choice if you’re looking for something immersive and heartfelt that still leaves you smiling when you close the final page.

The Summer that melted Everything - Tiffany McDaniel

The originality of the premise, and the sweltering summer in which the action takes place all seem to indicate that this book is the perfect summer read. Plus, the slightly tragic and incisive tone is so good.

“Ohio, 1984. District Attorney Autopsy Bliss places an ad in the local Breathed newspaper inviting the devil to visit him. Sal, a young Black boy with strange green eyes, responds. He takes the boy in, thinking he has run away from a nearby farm. Over the course of a summer, Sal shares his life with his sons, Fielding and Grant, his wife, and their dog, Granny.”

A debut novel!

My reading list for this summer:

• People We Meet on Vacation - Emily Henry

  • A romance just the way I like them

• The Great Gatsby - F. Scott Fitzgerald

  • A classic I can read and enjoy over a weekend

• East of Eden - John Steinbeck

  • A movie is coming out this fall!

• Yesteryear - Caro Claire Burke

  • A book everyone’s talking about—and one that really intrigues me!

• Teaching to Transgress : Education as the Practice of Freedom - bell hook

  • Because I love bell hook’s writing, and because I’m taking my niece’s visit way too seriously.

♥ 🌷Thanks you so much for reading this article!🌷 ♥

Summer becomes strangely exhausting when you stop experiencing it as a season and start treating it like a project.

Somewhere between weekends that fill up too quickly, to-do lists for before September, and the feeling that every beautiful day must be put to good use, summer sometimes ends up slipping through our fingers. Before we know it, we find ourselves going from a scorching hot day straight into October.

At least, that’s what happens to me.

My last few summers have all ended in disaster. Illness, exhaustion… I end up no longer enjoying my days.

For a long time, I thought that was the price I had to pay to fully enjoy the summer.

But also my lack of self-compassion, my inability to say “no,” and my overly ambitious goals. Much of this exhausting hustle and bustle is entirely my own doing.

But this summer will be different (or at least I hope so).

I want to enjoy the long evenings without ending August completely exhausted, and balance my growing energy -fueled by the longer days- with the inevitable need for rest that follows.

Seize the small moments

I’d love to recapture that feeling summer used to have when we were young. Those long afternoons those long afternoons when we built huts out of ferns, those evenings that stretched on until the mosquitoes chased us inside. You know? Those days when a quick trip to the corner store to grab a popsicle was enough to make it feel like something important had happened.

A collection of little nostalgic moments that are both magical and timeless.

So, I’m going to do two things.

1. A list of the simple things I love about summer

Not the kind of bucket list that puts pressure on you, but rather a way to remind myself of what I appreciate about this season—what makes me feel good, alert, and alive. I want to enjoy my corner of the world, the beautiful beaches, peaceful walks, and even go out for a picnic on a lovely evening.

Because not everything has to be grand or extraordinary. Summer is also about enjoying the simple things and spontaneity!

🍦Having a sorbet on a hot day.

📖Going to read a book on the beach

🚲 Going for a bike ride in the late evening

🍋 Drinking homemade lemonade

2. Writing down gratitudes

To remember them, so I don’t forget them right away, I want to jot down all these little moments in my gratitude journal (which I’ve neglected for the past few weeks), so they don’t fade from my memory.

🌱Watering my plants and watching them grow

🧊Making iced tea with lots of ice

🌦️Being caught in a warm rain shower while out for a walk and enjoying it

Planning for My Energy Lows

I often go through several cyclical phases where I’m bursting with energy, followed by periods when I don’t feel like doing anything at all.

So, when I have more energy and am planning a thousand projects, I have to keep in mind that I won’t always maintain that same level of productivity.

For example, I’m feeling good and creative this spring and have written a ton of articles. Instead of ramping up my posting schedule and publishing them all at once, why not schedule them, keep them in reserve, and give myself a bit of a head start? If I still have this much energy next week, I can write four more and really put some thought into them; if not, I’ll at least have the satisfaction of seeing my projects keep moving forward.

A big part of this is accepting that my energy isn’t linear. I can’t reasonably expect a goal to be sustainable in the long term if I schedule it for when I have the most energy. Forcing myself to keep going often leads only to exhaustion and disappointment.

But not this summer!

Learning to Say No

Summer is the most bustling time of year. We want to be everywhere, all the time. There’s always an activity to plan, a place to go, or something more interesting to do.

In winter, no one is surprised that we’d rather stay in the comfort of our living rooms. In July, every time we say no, it feels a bit like a missed opportunity.

(I imagine it’s always a bit like that in the city? Out in the countryside, things calm down in winter, but it’s also a bit as if we’re trying to make up for lost time and pack in as much as possible before the next off-season.)

It’s the season when we’re always invited somewhere.

But this year, I can’t afford to be everywhere. If I feel up to it, great. If I don’t feel it, or if I feel like I’m pushing myself a bit, I have to say no. A “maybe” isn’t enough, especially this time of year, because it means I’ve let myself be tempted enough by the idea of leaving the door open, but I can’t afford to drain my energy, since it’s particularly hard to get back.

Setting aside time to do nothing

Summer goes by much faster than we’d like to believe. Especially when you live in a Nordic country where the long, warm days are literally numbered. Instead of making a long list of bucket-list items, I’ve decided to prioritize a few key projects that I’ll focus on.

To do this, I sat down with my calendar to figure out what I wanted to do, how many weekends I actually had available, and what mattered most to me. In my case, it’s a mix of the outdoors and family.

One of my common mistakes is filling my schedule with projects, and I end up with not a single minute to myself.

It sounds simple, but what would happen if I set aside time to do nothing?

Or to finally choose what I want to do at my own pace. These moments are crucial for recharging my energy. Whether it’s lying back in a lounge chair to read a book, settling into a hammock for a nap, or watching a movie with popcorn, these moments are far more effective than our busy, efficiency-driven minds would care to admit; they allow us to rest.

Asking myself: How can I feel better?

The heat, the sun, and office work don’t necessarily go well together, but one question I’ve asked myself is: How can I make my days go more smoothly? Does that mean planning a menu of cold meals? Or going for walks early in the morning before the heat wave really kicks in?

For me, that means going to the library on heatwave days. I work from home. I don’t have air conditioning. Usually, we don’t get more than a few days of heatwave per year in my area, but last year, we had two weeks of temperatures above 30 degrees. Needless to say, it was two weeks of hell, where I was too lazy to move. I won’t make that mistake again.

Sticking with the things that make me feel good

Writing, reading, exercising, learning languages…

These are all things that help me feel more like myself. They make me feel like I’m moving forward, but above all, they help me stay connected to what drives me. Summer sometimes has this strange way of making us abandon our routines when schedules shift and days become unpredictable.

And yet, I notice that when I completely stop reading, writing, or exercising, I often end up feeling a little lost. I don’t want to turn these activities into obligations. I simply want to make room for them and hold on to what makes me feel like myself

There’s no such thing as a perfect summer

As I reread this list, I realize that the real goal isn’t to create the perfect summer.

I already know there will be days when some plans fall through, that I won’t be able to do everything.

But the best gift I can give myself this summer is simply to stop trying to make the most of it…. just to live it and be in the moment.

♥ 🌷Thanks you so much for reading this article!🌷 ♥

I’m always fascinated by the trends that emerge on social media. There’s something often incongruous and sometimes subversive about them that draws me in. My latest discovery, and one I’ve decided to dive into headfirst, is creating a personal curriculum.

The Personal Curriculum Phenomenon

It seems that TikTok creator Elizabeth Jean is the one who popularized the phenomenon; every month, she shares her learning goals and related reading material on the platform.

The concept is said to be a response to “brain rot.” This refers to the consumption of large amounts of meaningless content online. By constantly scrolling, we end up losing all critical and creative thinking skills.

So, if we’re going to waste our time, we might as well learn about topics that interest us (and gain intellectual abilities)!

The idea behind a personal curriculum is simple: it involves creating a study plan to learn more about a topic that interests you. The benefits are endless! You avoid the pressure of an academic setting, and there are no rules other than the ones you choose to set for yourself. The curriculum can take any form you like: a selection of readings, conducting research to answer a specific question, attending relevant events, and so on.

According to its advocates, it’s an excellent way to experience the joy of learning. Since we make our own decisions about what to study, it’s a very intentional way of learning. We have to think about what interests us, our goals, and how we can achieve them.

I’ve always loved studying, but I’ve been living in a rural area for several years now and have discovered that distance learning isn’t ideal for me. What I loved about college was the lectures. I hope one day to be able to start taking college courses again just for fun! So, a personalized curriculum seems to me to be the ideal way to keep learning in a meaningful way until then.

What makes the personal curriculum appealing is not just the freedom it offers, but the sense of direction it restores. Online learning today often feels fragmented. We move from one video to another, one article to the next, without necessarily building anything cumulative. The personal curriculum introduces a kind of coherence into that fragmentation.

Building a Curriculum in 4 Steps

1. Identify an area of interest to explore

Have you always wanted to bake (good) homemade bread? Have you always wondered about human evolution? Would you like to learn more about Japanese horror films? No matter the subject, the first step is to choose a field or question that fascinates you! Something you want to explore in depth, whether for personal or professional development, or simply out of intellectual curiosity.

Tip: Write down several topics that appeal to you and figure out why. This will help you compare your ideas and decide which one you want to dive into first. Maybe you can even tackle a few at the same time, or save some for later!

2. Clarify your goals

Once you have a topic, it helps to define what kind of relationship you want with it.

Not in a rigid or academic sense, but in terms of orientation.

You might want a broad understanding, a specific skill, or simply a deeper appreciation of a subject you already enjoy. Sometimes the goal is not even to produce something tangible, but to change the way you see certain things.

What matters is not precision, but direction. A loose intention is often enough to guide your choices without limiting them too early.

3. Build your personal media library

This is where your curriculum starts to take shape. The idea is to collect resources that will accompany your exploration over time. Books often form the backbone of this library, but they do not need to : essays, interviews, podcasts, lectures, documentaries, or even museum visits can all contribute to the same learning path. And you might just make some wonderful discoveries!

The key is not quantity, but resonance. A single book that shifts your perspective can be more valuable than ten that you forget immediately afterward.

It can also be helpful to think of your media library as something dynamic. You are not simply collecting references ; you are assembling a temporary ecosystem of ideas that will evolve as you do.

4. Set a timeframe and pace

A curriculum needs rhythm, even a flexible one. Without some sense of duration, it can easily dissolve into vague intentions.

This does not mean imposing strict deadlines. It can be as simple as deciding to focus on a theme for a month, a season or even a entire year! Within that container, you can establish a pace that feels sustainable. One book per month or one reflective note whenever something feels significant enough to write down.

What matters is not consistency in a rigid sense, but continuity over time.

5. Take stock (and allow it to change you)

At the end of a cycle, it is worth pausing to reflect on what has shifted. Which ideas stayed with you longer than expected? Which resources felt transformative, and which ones faded quickly? Did your initial curiosity evolve into something else entirely?

This step is not about evaluation. It is about noticing. A personal curriculum is not a fixed program but a living structure, and it only becomes meaningful when you allow it to change shape based on what you discover. Sometimes the most interesting outcome is not what you learned, but the realization that your questions have moved somewhere else entirely.

It’s also time to ask yourself what the next steps are: were you satisfied with the curriculum process, or would you like to explore a specific topic in greater depth?

Closing thought

A personal curriculum is not a productivity system. It is not about optimizing your free time or turning leisure into performance. It is, instead, a way of taking your curiosity seriously enough to give it structure.

In a world where attention is constantly pulled in multiple directions, choosing what to learn becomes a quiet form of authorship.

You are no longer only consuming knowledge. You are deciding, gradually and imperfectly, what kind of mind you want to build.

I’m curious! What would your personal curriculum look like if you had to design one today?

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♥ Spring

Spring wasn’t my favorite season.

One of the joys of winter is watching for the next snowstorm—the one that will silence all noise and slow down our busy lives for a moment.

The joys of summer revolve around swimming at the beach, ice cream, and long evenings with the people we love.

Fall has a unique mystical quality; it’s a time for rest and reading, and I love it.

Spring is when the weather is unpredictable, the streets are muddy and littered with trash that has accumulated over the winter, and it becomes increasingly difficult to get around in the woods due to the snow. We lose skiing and winter sports, the beauty of fall, or the spontaneity of summer.

Everything changed the day I got a maple farm.

In Quebec, we harvest maple sap during the thaw, when the alternation between warm days and cold nights causes the trees to circulate their sap. So, since we were using a traditional method, we set up buckets and collected the sap by walking among the trees. And even if we tripped over our own feet, it didn’t matter—it was fun, because we knew our efforts would be rewarded with delicious sweet syrup, or even a cup of ponce (maple water mixed with hard liquor).

I then began to learn about birds.

One morning in April, out of the blue, a good twenty American robins were perched on the house across the street, waking us with their distinctive songs. A week later, about a hundred slate-colored juncos were pecking around the yard in front of my house. During a walk on the beach, a kestrel was resting in the shelter of the bushes after a turbulent crossing of the St. Lawrence River. Next week, we’ll welcome the thousand colors of the warblers.

Bird migrations are so massive that they can be observed from satellites.

Whether it’s the first sprouts of plants or the arrival of whales, turning my gaze toward the natural world has helped me appreciate a season that previously had a negative connotation for me.

I’d say it’s the same principle with words.

♥♥ The Joy of Words

When I was in elementary school, our teacher would give us a list of words we had to memorize for a weekly test. It was stressful, but I managed to pass thanks to my mother, who made me repeat them over and over to help me remember them.

There’s something very dry about learning the words of our native language this way. I don’t know if that’s still the case today. One thing is certain: I don’t think I retained much from those lists of words I memorized only to forget them the following week.

Everything changed the day I started reading novels.

I began to enjoy reading, and when you read, you encounter more and more words in different contexts. Our memory is put to good use.

After a break from reading for a few years, bringing this practice back into my life allowed me to broaden the range of possibilities. Now, I collect words. I jot down the ones I notice, when they’re used in a surprising context, when I come across them for the first time.

And, I don’t know if I’m the only one, but sometimes I’m surprised to find myself using a word whose definition I’m not even sure of—and then realizing that, in the end, I managed to use it in the right context.

My world has also expanded since I started writing more regularly. I’ve learned to appreciate words, to challenge myself to use them in the right context, to look for interesting ways to highlight them.

This experience has led me to the conclusion that observing nature and the observation required for writing demand a similar keen eye.

• Hearing a new bird in a forest where you always go for walks.

• Coming across a word you’d never really noticed before, then suddenly seeing it everywhere.

• Noticing the first flower that manages to bloom despite the cold.

• Analyzing authors’ styles, their phrasing, how they share ideas.

The parallels draw themselves.

The more I learn to observe the living world, the more I learn to love words. Both require the same thing: slowing down long enough to notice what was already there.

Migratory birds return every spring, but you still have to look up to see them or listen closely. Words, too, already exist all around us, in novels, conversations, songs.

Canadiens flags flutter from car windows, red jerseys are worn with pride, and game nights are set aside… playoff fever is sweeping.

It’s now become a ritual to discuss the games over dinner or organize your schedule around upcoming matches. And even though I hadn’t followed the team for several years, I’m even starting to get caught up in the excitement.

It’s fun to follow our team, to hope, to despair, to analyze, and to talk about it with those around us.

Meanwhile, the Off Campus series skillfully catches a pass and wins over the public’s heart following the success of Heated Rivalry at the end of last year.

But beneath the playoff excitement and romantic storylines, can a sport so deeply tied to violence and toxic culture still become a space for change, connection, and hope?

Off Campus and Heated Rivalry

Both series use hockey as a backdrop to present romances, but they differ in their approach.

Heated Rivalry explores desire between two men as well as self-acceptance and identity through the transformative power of love. The series is enhanced by Jacob Tierney’s magnificent direction and the actors’ incomparable performances. We follow the development of the relationship between Shane Hollander and Ilya Rozanov over several years, as they become professional hockey players on rival teams.

The Off Campus series, on the other hand, isn’t a watered-down or heterosexual version of Heated Rivalry.

It took me a while to want to listen to it, even though I saw it everywhere, because I’d already filed it away as the kind of series that wouldn’t be my cup of tea. I should have held off on judging it, because in the end, I really enjoyed listening to it.

It starts with several classic tropes: Hannah Wells, a serious and reserved student, and Garrett Graham, a popular hockey player, strike a fake dating deal. The series manages to stay true to the romance genre while remaining enjoyable to watch without falling into the pitfalls I expected; the characters’ pasts are handled with finesse, and the show avoids sinking into clichés.

Both series are adapted from best-selling books and were well-received upon their release. Heated Rivalry is an adaptation of the Game Changers book series by Canadian author Rachel Reid, while Off Campus is based on a series of novels of the same name by Canadian author Elle Kennedy.

But all this interest in the sport shouldn’t distract us from an important truth to remember… hockey isn’t all that romantic.

Hockey, a sport not so romantic?

This buzz around hockey almost made me reconsider my opinion of the sport.

However, that would be to overlook everything that has happened in recent years. In 2022, we learned that Hockey Canada had attempted to cover up a case of sexual assault, illustrating the institutionalization of the toxic culture prevalent in this sport.

Recently, the documentary Code of Misconduct was released about this trial. It explores how hockey culture in Canada fosters dangerous behavior among young male athletes and calls for a systemic transformation of hockey culture.

In an interview, Léa Clermont Dion, a postdoctoral researcher, author, filmmaker, and political scientist, explains her involvement with Hockey Canada following this scandal in an effort to raise awareness among young people about sexual consent. But that’s not enough; she notes that until this is fully integrated into the organization, the future doesn’t look bright.

She has published two books that may be worth exploring to gain a deeper understanding of the subject: Porter plainte (Filing a Complaint), which details the degrading legal process involved in filing a sexual assault complaint. Her book Salut ça va ? : Dialoguer pour prévenir les violences sexuelles (Hello, How Are You? : Talking to Prevent Sexual Violence), aimed at young people (though relevant regardless of age), aims to educate and raise awareness.

* Sorry for the French references… those are the ones I’ve read! There are probably some very interesting ones in English as well.

A Shift in Mindset

I hope that a series like Heated Rivalry has created an opening in the world of sports, and more specifically in hockey. The series doesn’t shy away from the issue; it clearly shows just how prevalent homophobia is in the sport. After all, in its 109-year history, the NHL has never had an openly gay player compete in a regular-season game. It’s the only one among North America’s major professional men’s sports leagues.

I hope that will change.

Hockey is a violent sport. Off Campus tackles this violence head-on and doesn’t try to gloss over or distort this reality. We even see the consequences very clearly when certain events come back to haunt the characters, or when we witness the sport’s tangible physical impacts.

But we understand that this isn’t the ONLY reality. Sport can also be a time for coming together and bonding.

I also like that the importance of male friendships is clearly portrayed. The players have to deal with their emotions on the ice just as they do in life. In doing so, they learn to communicate, and their friendship makes them better people.

These two series have allowed me to rekindle my interest in hockey as a sport and given me hope that it can be something more. Even though the sport hasn’t completely changed yet, and there’s still a lot of work to be done, attitudes are evolving.

Meanwhile, I follow the Canadiens’ games with eagerness, watch playoff series that have the power to change things, and remain grounded in reality.