January has been a pretty good reading month. Well, not really. Out of the five books I’ve read, three were disappointing – but I seem to be out of my slump at long last.
Over the next ten days, my “mini-goal” is to complete The Canterbury Tales and Anna Karenina. Since the Chaucer is a library book (overdue by a month and a half), I’ll be reading it first. Notice how other books are conveniently prioritising themselves over Anna Karenina? Once I sit down with the book in my hands and begin reading, I’m fine, but I seem to have an aversion towards the thought of actually reading it. I think it may have something to do with the translation. I need to get myself a Pevear-Volokhonsky sometime soon.
As for The Canterbury Tales, I’m having a great time. When I think “14th century”, I always envision Medieval folks shrouding themselves in piety and solemnity, but Chaucer is quite mischievous. There’s still something I find odd about reading an entire book in verse, though.
I don’t normally like to set myself such rigid reading goals, but I know that if I don’t make myself finish Anna Karenina now, I never will (not this edition, anyway). And I really need to return all my overdue books before they make me pay a fine. And in case I haven’t made it bleedingly obvious already, I like compiling lists. In February, I think I’ll be reading the following books:
- Tender is the Night, F Scott Fitzgerald
- Metamorphoses, Ovid
- The Age of Innocence, Edith Wharton
- Middlemarch, George Eliot
- Ulysses, James Joyce
It’s also just caught my attention that I have not yet read Tales of Beedle the Bard. While it’s true that I have been attempting to stem my Harry Potter addiction, how could I have let this happen?
And yes. I’m aware that I’m becoming increasingly incoherent (who knew it was possible to be rambling and disjointed all at once?), but we’re in Day 8 of ridiculously-sweltering-heat, against which airconditioners are useless, so please be understanding.