Confessions of an English major:
- First off, I will tell you that I am not reading Ulysses. Ever again. Having abandoned the book somewhere in Nighttown at least three times over the years, I am content to leave “Stately, plump Buck Mulligan” in a lather standing on the stairhead of page one, and skip -yes skip joyfully - to the final yes in Molly’s soliloquy. So there. And so much for my rare first edition, 8th printing, (Shakespeare & Company, 1926)
- In a similar vein, I am not reading the last 400 pages of Against the Day by Thomas Pynchon. The first 685 were quite enough, thank you.
- I am not reading Stephen King, even though I admit to purchasing Under the Dome, the deluxe edition. With collector cards!
- I am not reading best seller Wolf Hall, in spite of my delight at finding a mint copy for $4 at a used book sale.
- I am not reading The Help, though everybody is.
On my list of books to read this summer, I am not reading
- The Lacuna, by Barbara Kingsolver, now on my nightstand "In the beginning there were the howlers."
- Cutting for Stone, my book club selection for September
- Matterhorn, in ebook format for the Nook
- Tree of Smoke, a must-read leftover from last summer
- Beatrice and Virgil, the new Yann Martel animal tale
- Tinker, this year’s suprise Pulitzer winner
No, I am not reading,
but highly recommended that you read:
- The Artist’s Way, Chapter Four
- All fine print on pesticides purchased for your Secret Garden
- Nutrition labels on favorite snack foods
- Operating instructions for new power tools and digital equipment