A few years back I took a work-related test that was rather intense in the “you will pass this test only if you memorize every fact in this 300 page book” sort of way, and since I didn’t wish to waste my boss’s money by not passing it the first go, I studied so much that I can’t remember October of that year. I’m feeling rather that way about May this year. The first half of the month became an intensive study fest and the second half is turning into intensive recovery session. By which I really mean, for the past week or so I’ve abandoned all pretext of studying or anything else “not fun” and spent my time blog reading, TV watching, and finally, finally for the first time since mid-February (eek!) I’ve finished a completely “fun” book. (I really can’t consider How to Read a Book as fun reading. Informative, yes. Fun, not so much.)
The completed book was not, unfortunately, Conversation in the Cathedral, which had to be returned to the library, but Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm, which remained a delight to the end. I’ll have more on that later this week. I’ve also put a good dent in How to Read Literature Like a Professor, but my progress on that one has been somewhat stalled by my tendency to argue with it. More on that once I’ve finished the book. (And more on why I blame my dad for the arguments—how’s that for a teaser?)
Part of me can’t believe that we’re over halfway through May and I have only finished 3 books this year! I think I’ve spent more time talking about reading than actually reading. Which may be part of the problem… I’d like to say that I’ll be spending more time reading in the near future, but I have one teeny little problem—other than How to Read Literature Like a Professor, I have no idea what I want to read. (Well actually, I know I want to reread Pride and Prejudice, but I’ve promised myself that as my reward for getting through the next test.) Rereads in general might be just right at the moment. Then again, one of the chapters I haven’t argued with in How to Read Literature Like a Professor makes me want to read some Shakespeare. One of his comedies might be just the thing. At any rate, it’s very up in the air—which is perhaps one of the most exciting things about reading—that thrill of possibility of what might be just around the next corner.