Repeat after me: there is no such thing as too much Virginia Woolf.
I tackled her 1928 novel, Orlando, just a few weeks ago. And, before that, I reviewed one of her lesser-known novels, Night and Day, back in 1919.
Too much Woolf? Impossible! I hope you agree.
Continue reading “1931 – the waves ~ virginia woolf”
It’s not like I set out on purpose to read two iconic works of American literature in two consecutive weeks. No, really. Honest.
After reading Huckleberry Finn last week and As I Lay Dying this week, I’m starting to think with a Southern accent. Please send help. It’s gettin’ powerful bothersome.
Continue reading “1930 – as i lay dying ~ william faulkner”
I’m moving into the oh-so-stylish Thirties this week. Yet another decade down! Only… (counts on fingers) eight to go? Eighty books to go. That’s (counts on fingers again – can you tell I didn’t do maths at school?) err…more than one and a half years of reading remaining?
Excuse me for a moment, while I wonder what on earth I was doing starting this blog in the first place. And, possibly, have some kind of psychiatric episode.
Continue reading “book to the future’s future books”