Wednesday What Are You Reading
Feb. 12th, 2014 08:56 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kafjCurrently Reading
On The Road, for the second time in as many months. I'm rather embarrassedly in love with it; it explains rather a lot about my family and, consequently, about myself. Everyone in it is quite appalling, but it does speak to the part of me that is eating bread and apples in a layby somewhere on the way to Cheltenham.
(The people who would later become my parents and godparents spent a decade of August bank holidays running one, two, occasionally three 1930s Paris buses from Hampshire to Derbyshire, giving rides when they got there, drinking vast quantities of beer when they'd finished giving rides, and then going home again. The stories are fantastic. On The Road feels like one long Paris bus story.)
Plodding on with Les Miserables, a chapter a night. Ish.
Recently Finished
New York Mosaic, Isabel Bolton. Mid-century American stream-of-consciousness again, but very different. The end of The Christmas Tree was extremely satisfying in a devastating kind of a way, but my favourite of the trio was the first, Do I Wake Or Sleep, which had a gorgeous dreamy quality to it that I loved.
Up Next
This is a Cambridge weekend, so I'll crack on with Discworld.
Other Media
Not much to report. The Musketeers, obviously (still over-identifying with Aramis; this is not a repeat from 2005). Other than that it's been a little bit of the Winter Olympics over the weekend, The Last Leg (my love for Adam Hills, possibly the only stand-up comedian on the telly who doesn't make me want to throw things, knows no bounds), and vicarious Midsomer Murders (by which I mean Tom watches it and tells me about it.)
On The Road, for the second time in as many months. I'm rather embarrassedly in love with it; it explains rather a lot about my family and, consequently, about myself. Everyone in it is quite appalling, but it does speak to the part of me that is eating bread and apples in a layby somewhere on the way to Cheltenham.
(The people who would later become my parents and godparents spent a decade of August bank holidays running one, two, occasionally three 1930s Paris buses from Hampshire to Derbyshire, giving rides when they got there, drinking vast quantities of beer when they'd finished giving rides, and then going home again. The stories are fantastic. On The Road feels like one long Paris bus story.)
Plodding on with Les Miserables, a chapter a night. Ish.
Recently Finished
New York Mosaic, Isabel Bolton. Mid-century American stream-of-consciousness again, but very different. The end of The Christmas Tree was extremely satisfying in a devastating kind of a way, but my favourite of the trio was the first, Do I Wake Or Sleep, which had a gorgeous dreamy quality to it that I loved.
Up Next
This is a Cambridge weekend, so I'll crack on with Discworld.
Other Media
Not much to report. The Musketeers, obviously (still over-identifying with Aramis; this is not a repeat from 2005). Other than that it's been a little bit of the Winter Olympics over the weekend, The Last Leg (my love for Adam Hills, possibly the only stand-up comedian on the telly who doesn't make me want to throw things, knows no bounds), and vicarious Midsomer Murders (by which I mean Tom watches it and tells me about it.)
