In the interests of not having to update this blog literally every day, I've chosen something both longish and sustainable as my current read. (Books by Muriel Spark rarely exceed 24 hours in the reading, while things like Livy's The Early History of Rome can't be read in one sitting as it were.)
Thus, thanks to the wonderfully stocked Almost Corner Bookstore (I shall miss you!), I'm now well into (but not close to being finished) Orhan Pamuk's My Name is Red. I've tried and tried to read Pamuk's The New Life (which has been hanging about the house since Brook took an MA course (called, portentously, The Book and the Reader) in which it was featured) but find the first 30 or so pages absolutely unbearable in their pretension. Last winter (I think) I read Pamuk's Snow, gifted to me by the lovely Melinda, and which I very much enjoyed. It was very gratifyingly atmospheric in its evocation of wintertime.
I look forward to getting somewhere warm this evening where I can cozy up with this book some more. I was reading it in the Piazza Navona but my fingers were turning blue and so I had to move on.
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