As is true for many grad students, the scope of my reading practice has contracted, to varying degrees, around my chosen field. Particularly when I was taking courses, film theory and criticism necessarily comprised the bulk of my reading.
When we go to inspect female-presenting writers, the canon is too familiar: Emily Dickinson, Charlotte Bronte, Jane Austen. There’s no purpose in arguing this. What’s more interesting is uncovering forgotten women writers—women who wrote poetry with T.S. Eliot and Ezra Pound in life, or produced movies with Alfred Hitchcock.