Soporific

[jethrien]

I'm trying to read Tristram Shandy. This book is magic. I get three or four pages in, I'm entertained, and then I wake up. I try again, get another few pages, and suddenly realize that I've misread the same sentence four times because despite the fact my eyes are open and moving, I am in fact asleep. I wake up. Repeat.

Now, I have a certain stubborness about finishing books. I've read Les Mis and War and Peace. I got through Foucault's Pendulum and actually rather loved it. I survived The Autumn of the Patriarch, despite the fact that I think Marquez used exactly one period, at the end. I absolutely despised Gravity's Rainbow, but I finished it, goddamn it.

I don't know if I can make it through this one. Not out of a lack of desire, but just because I cannot seem to keep my brain online long enough to make any headway. Arrgh. Maybe I can alternate (I'm reading it on my Nook) - ten pages of Shandy and then a couple chapters of Jeeves and Wooster or something.

Comments

[jethrien.livejournal.com]

I actually loved Robinson Crusoe. Partially because I'm a sucker for "ingenuity on a desert island" narratives. Partially because a copy was lent to me in third grade by a teacher who noticed how much time I spent staring into space waiting for the rest of the class to finish the assignment and catch up to me. She gave it to me to keep in my desk and read whenever I finished early. The idea of being able to read instead of waste time waiting was such a relief.

[firynze.livejournal.com]

I still don't know why it's so soporific for me. I made it through - and ENJOYED - Anna Karenina at the age of 10. And yet I've never made it through RC.