I woke with a thick throat. Minor aches. Bert has been sick all week, with the flu, so I’m tincturing myself, somewhat madly. I’ll fight you off, you bugger! Back! Back! YOU SHALL NOT PASS!
OK. That said. Since I took the day off, more or less, to perform my Gandolf wizadry on the Belrog Bug, I decided to go ahead and finish “The Namesake” by Jhumpa Lahiri, which I’m reading with my women’s group. Very nice, very nice. Her style of depicting certain details brings every scene alive. There were times when I felt the details were too much, superfluous, and other times when Only now I simply must read “The Overcoat” by Nikolai Gogol. It is a requirement after enjoying “The Namesake,” as the main character is named after Nikolai Gogol, and “The Overcoat” plays a significant role in the story. Though Lahiri never tells anything of plot of “The Overcoat.”
So I went online and started looking at fiction. I’ve decided to start reading at night. I usually have an hour or so of quiet before I turn off the lamp by my bed, and I want to spend that time more richly than just surfing the net or playing sudoku. I have lots of non-fiction I could be reading, but it just doesn’t grab me like fiction does, and I end up falling asleep. Besides, I feel sometimes like I’m behind in that arena, like I’m missing something so delicious, but tell myself I don’t have the time to taste it. I’ve become somewhat uncultured, not keeping up with music, not reading, watching only a few movies, never watching TV. This is not so big an issue for me. But I do miss the fiction. Sooner or later it will be my turn to pick out a book for my women’s group to read, and I’m thinking I will choose something by Eudora Welty, not just because we share the same hometown, but also because I am writing short stories now, and Welty is considered my many to be a master of the form. But I might just pick “Confederacy of Dunces,” because we all need a good laugh, and I’ve never read a funnier story.