Peel me a Book

Let's Peel

The Cost of Living

Not a divorce memoir. Not a self-help manual. Not a triumphant reinvention.

Perfect if you want to discover what freedom costs when you stop being a supporting character in your own life.

Synopsis

“Life falls apart. We try to get a grip. We try to hold it together.”

A marriage ends. A mother dies. Two daughters grow older. And somewhere between a new flat, an electric bicycle and a borrowed writing shed, Deborah Levy begins assembling a different existence. But freedom is not an uncomplicated victory. It arrives with bills, exhaustion, unexpected pleasures and the unnerving discovery that the life you were holding together might have been holding you captive.

Mood:

liberated · disoriented · rebellious · bittersweet

Tone:

intimate · incisive · playful

It Feels Like

Body:

the ache of carrying everything yourself, followed by the startling pleasure of putting something down.

Tempo:

a bicycle gathering speed after a long uphill climb.

Texture:

peeling wallpaper, warm concrete, the rough edges of a freshly cut key.

A Little Taste

“To speak our life as we feel it is a freedom we mostly choose not to take”

“Freedom is never free. Anyone who has struggled to be free knows how much it costs.”

The Aftertaste

Discovers that independence can be both exhilarating and inconvenient.

Exposes the invisible labour required to keep other people's lives comfortable.

The delicious, terrifying suspicion that you might still become someone entirely unexpected.

Peel With a Drink

A dirty martini, very cold, with two olives and absolutely no apology.

It arrives looking composed, almost severe, but there's trouble beneath the surface. The brine interrupts the elegance, the gin refuses to be softened, and the olives sit at the bottom like two small domestic obligations nobody remembered to remove.

Drink it somewhere you have chosen to be. Preferably at a table that belongs to nobody else.

Peel With a Reel

The Souvenir (dir. Joanna Hogg, 2019) — a young woman learning to distinguish love from the surrender of her own artistic life.

Alice Doesn't Live Here Anymore (dir. Martin Scorsese, 1974) — motherhood, money and the wonderfully inconvenient business of starting again.

Peel with a Beat
Peel me a Book
Or Try:

Didier Eribon

one returns to the life he escaped; the other leaves the life she was expected to preserve.

Let's Peel

The Cost of Living

Not a divorce memoir. Not a self-help manual. Not a triumphant reinvention.

Perfect if you want to discover what freedom costs when you stop being a supporting character in your own life.

Synopsis

“Life falls apart. We try to get a grip. We try to hold it together.”

A marriage ends. A mother dies. Two daughters grow older. And somewhere between a new flat, an electric bicycle and a borrowed writing shed, Deborah Levy begins assembling a different existence. But freedom is not an uncomplicated victory. It arrives with bills, exhaustion, unexpected pleasures and the unnerving discovery that the life you were holding together might have been holding you captive.

Mood:

liberated · disoriented · rebellious · bittersweet

Tone:

intimate · incisive · playful

It Feels Like

Body:

the ache of carrying everything yourself, followed by the startling pleasure of putting something down.

Tempo:

a bicycle gathering speed after a long uphill climb.

Texture:

peeling wallpaper, warm concrete, the rough edges of a freshly cut key.

A Little Taste

“To speak our life as we feel it is a freedom we mostly choose not to take”

“Freedom is never free. Anyone who has struggled to be free knows how much it costs.”

The Aftertaste

Discovers that independence can be both exhilarating and inconvenient.

Exposes the invisible labour required to keep other people's lives comfortable.

The delicious, terrifying suspicion that you might still become someone entirely unexpected.

Peel With a Drink

A dirty martini, very cold, with two olives and absolutely no apology.

It arrives looking composed, almost severe, but there's trouble beneath the surface. The brine interrupts the elegance, the gin refuses to be softened, and the olives sit at the bottom like two small domestic obligations nobody remembered to remove.

Drink it somewhere you have chosen to be. Preferably at a table that belongs to nobody else.

Peel With a Reel

The Souvenir (dir. Joanna Hogg, 2019) — a young woman learning to distinguish love from the surrender of her own artistic life.

Alice Doesn't Live Here Anymore (dir. Martin Scorsese, 1974) — motherhood, money and the wonderfully inconvenient business of starting again.

Peel with a Beat