Katie Murphy
@manymanyplies
Glaswegian academic, Oxford. Mostly found in the c17th. Preoccupied by essays, etymology, grammar, puns, paintings, Czech. Out in summer 2027: Robert Burton: A Vital Melancholy.
Just in case anyone was wondering. (Wild, wild essay. The pitch she lives/writes at!)
...in a document I gave them at the start of the last academic year -- this was my go at it:
Going to try to make this accidental 'livelihoo' on the OUP website into a thing: capricious quality of life and lifelikeness, essayistic esprit, careless brilliance.
I didn't have space to write about this beautiful c14th ivory in the Courtauld: love the pair of the Ascension on the left, Mary & the disciples rocked back in wonder, & Pentecost in the next frame, where they bow in gratitude. To create such verticals in tininess, & a long horizontal frame!
It's the Feast of the Ascension! This time last year, I wrote about the flagrant silliness of paintings of disappearing feet in paintings for @apollo-magazine.com, and why their silliness (believe this non-sense if you can!) is the point. apollo-magazine.com/ascension-fe...
This is genuinely helpful for an article I have coming out, in which there's a tangential paragraph about translations of names for night-birds in a c17th phrasebook. One is 'caprimulgus', which is rendered 'milker of goats', which I thought wasn't an English concept at all: but I'm wrong, it seems.
I took the hint, I read the book, & thrilled to it: so good on what it's like to read & think, & try to read & think, & still to have a body as you do so. The protagonist is writing an essay on Shax's sonnets, & though we don't read the essay, I also ended up w/ a fresh perspective on the poems.
Is it my Presbyterian upbringing or my professional life as an early modernist that made me misread this sign at Paddington Station as saying 'Calvin Bar'?
I have had such a tense and intense time reading Zuzana Říhová's brilliant Playing Wolf, a tale of city folk who enter the rituals of dark fairy tale in a Czech village. I am excited to discuss it with her TONIGHT, at the Czech Embassy: anyone at a loose end in W London: come! Link below.
After 22 (gulp) years in Oxford, things have now achieved their peak: last week I saw someone toast a crumpet on a fork over an open fire, & today, college lunch featured BOTH toad in the hole AND spotted dick, dishes I had only read about, cannot distinguish, & still suspect of being fictional.
Encountered an errata slip today which has immediately become one of my top three -- for goodness/badness/consequences.
Gave a paper today about Thomas Browne; went to a dinner; was supervised at dinner by Thomas Browne; will, tomorrow morning, supervise someone else on Thomas Browne.
The cognitive dissonance in the Abbey shop is amazing. Shelves of missals and the Rule of St Benedict, carousels of rosaries, and this:
As my (Glaswegian) godmother said, when I (Glaswegian) sent her this photo: she must be busy.
Such peculiar accoutrements, always! My favourite is the obvious National Gallery Annunciation, in which Gabriel is interrupted about his important business to comment on some town-planning. And spot the pickle!
I have a brief review in this week's @thetls.bsky.social of a novel by Nicol Hochholczerová, This Room Is Difficult to Eat. For reasons into the which I will not go, it was difficult for me to read -- but I'm glad I did.
Maybe I'll get on board with this AI lark after all, if it starts claiming that I have coined 'key concepts in literary theory' when all I was up to was trying to find a link to an essay I wrote. Then again, as it says at the bottom, 'AI responses may include mistakes'.
Advice in a 1944 Colloquial Hungarian textbook; useful for the internet age.
Long before 'cozzy livs' and 'platty jubes', Scots were suffering from the 'shakky trimmles'.
What do people who don't use Bible Gateway use as a first stop when they want to compare multiple translations of the Bible, across multiple languages? Because this has just flung a spanner into my afternoon:
Ah, the seventeenth century, when the dream was not artificial but Human General Intelligence, revealed by art.
To even my own surprise, I appear to have written an essay in a volume on Walter Pater. Many congratulations to the editors, and thanks to their patience with my c19th noviceishness. I wrote about what Pater means by 'quaintness'. Very much looking forward to reading the other contributions.