Some thoughts on reading.

 

I just finished the last page of Vladimir Nabokov's Lolita . A disgusting book, a sickening book, a book which made me angry, sad, and a very, very interetsing book. I will talk more about it the 15th in my "year of the classic" post, here I will only say that it felt good to turn the last page.

 

As soon as the last page was done I laid down on the coach and slept for two hours. On a Sunday morning!

 

Now I need beauty. I need my pink ranunkler (buttercups), and I need books with beauty. Nabokov will be put away, instead I have a pile of Gertrude Jekyll.

 

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Do you always finish the books you start?

Have you read any beautyful books lately?

What about ugly, disgusting ones?

 

Don't forget reading the classics, the 15th every month.