Yee-haw, I've found a book as absorbing as Auster's Oracle. Uninspired by all the books waiting for me to read them at my house, I wandered into a charity shop close to my work and found this book -- a first edition hardback for just £2 -- tucked away in a dark corner:
J.M. Coetzee's Disgrace, which is about a professor from Cape Town accused of sexual harassment and forced to retreat to his daughter's isolated smallholding in the bush. I know something horrifyingly violent is about to take place in the plot and I'm just turning those pages. The trouble is, I'm already over halfway through it and the hunt for another rivetting read will resume, probably as early as tomorrow.
My partner gets through a book (or two, or three) a week and, on the strength of my sudden reading spurt, suggested -- only partially in jest I think -- a reading competition. My reading luck may not last, I fear, so perhaps I shouldn't jinx it.
What a glorious day. My work is taking this afternoon off for a picnic and sunbathe in the park. I might slink off to another part of the park to carry on reading.
No comments:
Post a Comment