The reeking gutters of Sydney’s inner-west grew me, but would not recognise me. I lost the ability to speak in those dreary streets (though you would not think it to meet me now), with words in my ears, words in my arms in the form of stacks upon stacks of heavy hardcovers or tattered paperbacks in my jacket pockets. Words in my head and on my fingertips as I desperately tried to portray what I saw and what I heard and how it made me feel. As I tried to explain myself, justify myself, without the voice to do so, I had just one steadfast companion.





Most recent: Simone de Beauvoir’s The Inseparables
Charlie Trenerry

Charlie’s Literature Club has made a triumphant return. A novella written in 1954 by the woman much ahead of her time, but only recently published posthumously. 

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Jean-Paul Sartre’s Nausea
Charlie Trenerry 
06.01.2024

Instagram would have definitely given Jean-Paul Sartre motion sickness. 

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A Lonely Girl Is A Dangerous Thing
Charlie Trenerry 
09.09.2024

An unapologetic look into the gruesome and beautiful guilt of female desire. 

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The laying On Of Hands
Charlie Trenerry 
08.08.2024

Charlie replaces food money for books this 
week. Alan Bennett.

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Let us Compare Mythologies
Charlie Trenerry 
06.06.2024

Each word and letter and line of illustration belongs where it lays on the page. And they will absolutely break your heart because of it. Leonard Cohen.

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Letters to a Young Poet
Charlie Trenerry
12.02.2024

One of those little books that may change your life. Rainer Maria Rilke. 

[Read..]






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