My castle, my books.

Another bildungsroman, this time, The White Book, by Jean Cocteau, sent to me by the dear Daniel-Halifax of Hibernian Homme. And so, a Cocteau revivals begins.

One afternoon, during a geography lesson, we heard that he was dead...In spite of everything, eroticism had received its death-blow. Too many little pleasures were disturbed by the ghost of the handsome animal whose charm had moved even death itself.