I hadn't intended to finish Swann's Way this weekend, merely reach the end of "Swann in Love" so that I could watch the Jeremy Irons movie of that name without the need to worry over encountering any spoilers, but after reaching that point in the novel and concluding that Hollywood wasn't likely to end its version in such a manner, I gulped down "Place Names" as well. More about Proust later, but I'm hoping to squeeze in a viewing of Swann in Love after a walk and before Deadwood comes on.
But first I have to showcase some of my latest library booty.
I'm currently reading Judith Levine's Not Buying It: My Year Without Shopping. My interest in this one was recently whetted by a book forum poster who complained that she felt like the victim of a bait and switch, that Levine's social experiment turned into a political manifesto midway through. Many Amazon reviewers make similar complaints.
To which I say bosh. Any reader who can't figure out by the second page of the text that the book isn't going to have anything complimentary to say about the Bush administration has been victimized by nothing more than her own poor reading skills. Those who've complained that the book didn't help them a la The Tightwad's Gazette must have missed vital information in the first chapter as well: "I am not primarily out to save money. . . I won't preach the gospel of the Simple Life or dispense advice on how to live it."
Also checked out:
The Book of Lost Books by Stuart Kelly. Looks great for dipping into, as does Marjorie Williams' The Woman at the Washington Zoo.
Little Big Man by Thomas Berger and Saddling Up Anyway by Patrick Dearen. Because I never tire of westerns.
Pug Hill by Alison Pace and My Latest Grievance by Elinor Lipman. Just for fun.
Not pictured, but waiting on the holds shelf for pick-up tomorrow: Coraline by Neil Gaiman and The Reluctant Mr. Darwin by David Quammen.
I probably won't get through the half of them.