It Was an Exhausting Year

imagesIt’s the end of the year and I have gathered together a reading pool that addresses some of the titles I have recently not read with some of the titles that I have perpetually avoided reading. Again, my quest is to remove a few of those big fat ones that haunt me month after month, year after year, and also to have a smattering of shorter titles to create a little breathing space.

I also am quite involved in watching many excellent and often challenging films on the Criterion Channel as well as brushing up on my Spanish with the help of Anna on Butterfly Spanish (YouTube). I’m busy in my old age.

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Stacking Up the Titles

download.jpgI was recently congratulated for having completed my monthly reading pool. Books, though, are like enchanted brooms and no matter how many I read, these is always a tide of new reading threatening to wash me away.

Besides, my current quest to read beaucoup de genre novels, especially detective and mystery fiction, results in five or six completions in the same time it might take me to read one George Eliot or Charles Dickens.

This month I’ve toyed with the idea to read a select few big, fat books, or once again race through a couple dozen more direct entertainments. I opted for the long list of fun reading with one or two more challenging titles thrown in for sustained interest. Next month, however, I’m contemplating two-out-of-three falls with the likes of A Man Without Qualities and Clarissa Harlowe.

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One More Month

zhivagoI intend to dedicate a month again to reading two or three of those big fat, often classical, novels that have been hovering off the edge of my reading lists for year after year. I had hoped, but July is still overloaded with detective novels, interesting entertainments, and unabashed fluff.

I do have one big novel from my Bucket-List: Doctor Zhivago. I was in college when one Saturday they bused a bunch of us down to one of the big Hollywood movie palaces to see David Lean’s interpretation of Doctor Zhivago. I disliked the film, complaining that the music was not integrated with the visual effect. Possibly because of this personal opinion left over from the 1960s, I have avoided reading Pasternak’s novel for over fifty years. I guess this is the month and, surprise, I’m finding it an easy, satisfying read, despite all the patronymics.

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