the book notes channel on my personal discord server is filled to the brim with quotations from THE CHARIOTEER because it’s so resonant. like yelling down to the bottom of the well and the well echoes back with truths that leave you choked up. i’ve read a mary renault book before. i think it was... the friendly young ladies but it wasn’t as good as the charioteer. or it’s just the headspace? i might try to read friendly young ladies again.

i lingered too long with this book because it had this air of oppressive silences where things are kept vague that if you don’t pay attention or maybe have little intuition in regards to particular sensitivities, the book won’t mean much to one. but reading the charioteer feels decadent and sparse at once. i cannot fathom how it’s done, stylistically, but i adore it. i lingered too, because i saw too much of myself in the book in too short a time. and i’ve always loathed looking at mirrors.