Listening to the wind

When told by the Swedish Academy that she had been awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature, Anne Carson apparently replied that she was in Iceland listening to the wind. Hard to match, but at least I grabbed the one book of hers I had on my shelf and jumped aboard a metallic Öresund train into the autumn rain.

Compared to Carson's Eros the Bittersweet, with its exploration of desire in classical literature and philosophy, I must admit that my own final edits to the När då då? manuscript feel rather flat. Still, I am happy to have finally submitted it for review, meaning that I can now turn my academic attention back to those elusive biogenic hydrocarbons, courtesy of the Swedish Energy Agency.