Though in my defense, I am studying the most genuine load of crap: Moby Dick, Beloved, The Grapes of Wrath, Robert Frost (he's the only one I like), and Wallace Stevens, for whom my deep distaste is well-documented (and in fact deserves its own category). You'd be procrastinating too.
Aside: New categories entertain me but are not ultimately helpful because I am obsessive enough that I have to go through my old posts and mark them appropriately with the new label that applies to them but did not exist when I wrote them. I should really just limit myself.
Right now I am supposed to be studying for my American lit final. I have virtually nothing in my study guide about Robert Frost, and I have this book checked out of the library called The Major Themes of Robert Frost that would probably assist me in adding material to my study guide, but I cannot bring myself to do it. Instead (this is true), I am making labels for all of my books, so that when my dearest darling friend Rakeesha comes to visit me she will know what every one of my books is about, and thus will be able to choose which (if any) of them she wishes to read.
I swear. I am cutting up pieces of green paper, writing descriptions of each of the books on them, and sticking them painstakingly on the shelf in front of each of the books. With tape. The only reason I am pausing to write this blog post at all is that I can't think how to describe A Hundred Years of Solitude because I haven't read it yet because I am saving it for the plane flight home. And it is possible that when I have finished doing this I will go crazy with it and just start labelling everything: Lotion. Mascara. Toothpaste. Hats., just in case my dearest darling friend Rakeesha gets confused and loses her ability to identify everyday objects.
Shattered Silk: A trashy but good novel with interesting things about old clothes in it. Lorna Doone: A completely ridiculous book set in the time of the Monmouth Rebellion. May be swashbuckling but I never got that far because it was so silly. The Moonstone: A mystery about the theft of a cursed Indian diamond, most delightfully written from multiple points of view. The Grapes of Wrath: Amazingly boring though well-written book about the Great Depression, my least favorite period of American history apart from Reconstruction.
Ah, how usefully I do fill my days.
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2 comments:
I may be remembering this incorrectly, but you once seemed quite taken with Lorna Doone. (I never understood why.) Am I remembering this incorrectly?
I believe that I bought it in the understanding that it was swashbuckling and believed (or hoped -- alas!) that I would enjoy it, but indeed I discovered when I read it that it was silly.
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