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What I'm Reading
Jan. 31st, 2006 12:24 amAm I a glutton for really long books? I don't know that I can be called a glutton, since it takes me so very long to read them. More like a boa constrictor. You remember that picture in The Little Prince, the one of the boa constrictor that's swallowed an elephant? That pretty much describes my current efforts to get into Clausewitz's On War. Since I'm reading it with the intention of actually learning some stuff, it'll probably take me to the end of February to finish it. And the edition I have is too heavy to be an easy addition to the already abundant contents of my handbag.
But does this doom my chances of completing the 52 book challenge this year? Why, no. I've found a cunning solution.
I have a big stack of volumes of contemporary poetry. Like, by actual living poets. Some of these volumes, I went out of my way to buy. Others were dumped on me by my beloved dissertation director, the Magisterial Presence. Since she's all Magisterial and everything, poets and presses would send her free copies of books, to curry favor with her. Sometimes she'd read them, sometimes not, but they came, relentlessly, dozens a year. Purging her library was an annual necessity. And for ten years, the receptacle into which she unloaded the rejects happened to be the trunk of my car. When I got the boxes home, I'd clean out the stuff I knew for sure I didn't want, and then there would be this little heap of possible keepers I didn't have time to read, because of the damn dissertation and the freshman composition teaching load. One of my mantras was, "I don't read the living." Although I don't need that mantra anymore, there's a big backlog of books to catch up on.
Every time the living room fills up with unread books--I'm embarrassed at how often that happens--Dan implores me to cull. And I cull as fast as I can, but I have become the world's slowest reader, because I'm always examining the seams. Finally, I'm going to burn through that stack of contemporary poetry. Since publishers expect to lose lots of money on poetry anyway, the volumes are very short. If I were in a writing phase that involved producing poetry, I'd be just as slow at that as at anything else, but I'm not. So. We'll see if I can make up some lost time.
January's been a slow reading month, with too many occasions for chamomile tea.
( Book 1: The Secrets of Jin-Shei )
( Book 2: The Once and Future King )
( Book 3: Interrogations at Noon )
But does this doom my chances of completing the 52 book challenge this year? Why, no. I've found a cunning solution.
I have a big stack of volumes of contemporary poetry. Like, by actual living poets. Some of these volumes, I went out of my way to buy. Others were dumped on me by my beloved dissertation director, the Magisterial Presence. Since she's all Magisterial and everything, poets and presses would send her free copies of books, to curry favor with her. Sometimes she'd read them, sometimes not, but they came, relentlessly, dozens a year. Purging her library was an annual necessity. And for ten years, the receptacle into which she unloaded the rejects happened to be the trunk of my car. When I got the boxes home, I'd clean out the stuff I knew for sure I didn't want, and then there would be this little heap of possible keepers I didn't have time to read, because of the damn dissertation and the freshman composition teaching load. One of my mantras was, "I don't read the living." Although I don't need that mantra anymore, there's a big backlog of books to catch up on.
Every time the living room fills up with unread books--I'm embarrassed at how often that happens--Dan implores me to cull. And I cull as fast as I can, but I have become the world's slowest reader, because I'm always examining the seams. Finally, I'm going to burn through that stack of contemporary poetry. Since publishers expect to lose lots of money on poetry anyway, the volumes are very short. If I were in a writing phase that involved producing poetry, I'd be just as slow at that as at anything else, but I'm not. So. We'll see if I can make up some lost time.
January's been a slow reading month, with too many occasions for chamomile tea.
( Book 1: The Secrets of Jin-Shei )
( Book 2: The Once and Future King )
( Book 3: Interrogations at Noon )
