“Nausea” – and the experience of (and in) reading…

There aren’t many belly-laughs in Jean-Paul Sartre’s work… I should explain. I had just spent three years studying English Literature at University; three years where I was immersed in ‘the greats’, all the way from Chaucer, through Shakespeare and Milton, up to James Joyce. It was wonderful! But it was regimented — we were told … Continue reading “Nausea” – and the experience of (and in) reading… →