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BRAND X

Orphaned transracial international ungrateful insurgent Class Bastard.

Posts tagged story of my life

Feb 9 '13
Nov 12 '12
"To lose one parent may be regarded as a misfortune. To lose both looks like carelessness."
Oscar Wilde

(Source: brandx)

Sep 2 '12

Nov 22 '11
bossymarmalade:

- The Mary Frances Cookbook, by Jane Eayre Fryer (Philadelphia, 1912)
Please note that at no point in the summary do they mention that the book has racist elements; it’s a “beautiful” book with a “lovely story line” that modern readers should “simply enjoy”.
It never ceases to bemuse me that, as a chromatic woman, white/Western people admire me for voraciously reading old-fashioned books and classic English literature — without understanding how much it costs me every time I digest these references to “heathen Hindoos” or “pickaninnies” or “rat-eating Chinee” and how long it’s taken me to vomit them from my system.
My relationship with white books is so often a mirror of my relationship with white people; I build up a devotion to them, these antique cookbooks and Sherlock Holmes stories and Louisa May Alcott novels, and then as I’m happily reading along I suddenly discover that my admiration is decidedly not mutual and this is what they think of me.  Things are never quite the same after that.

bossymarmalade:

- The Mary Frances Cookbook, by Jane Eayre Fryer (Philadelphia, 1912)

Please note that at no point in the summary do they mention that the book has racist elements; it’s a “beautiful” book with a “lovely story line” that modern readers should “simply enjoy”.

It never ceases to bemuse me that, as a chromatic woman, white/Western people admire me for voraciously reading old-fashioned books and classic English literature — without understanding how much it costs me every time I digest these references to “heathen Hindoos” or “pickaninnies” or “rat-eating Chinee” and how long it’s taken me to vomit them from my system.

My relationship with white books is so often a mirror of my relationship with white people; I build up a devotion to them, these antique cookbooks and Sherlock Holmes stories and Louisa May Alcott novels, and then as I’m happily reading along I suddenly discover that my admiration is decidedly not mutual and this is what they think of me.  Things are never quite the same after that.