What do I read next? Yes, I am knee-deep in Don Quixote, and yes, I am halfway through a bio on D.H. Lawrence (Note to self: Be grateful you never met D.H. Lawrence.) And yes, I am about halfway through Kerouac’s The Subterraneans.
I guess the real question is: Why do I want to start another novel?
Before I do any soul-searching over that, I want to lay out some of the choices that I’m toying with. Perhaps you all should vote on one for me.
Slow Man by JM Coetzee
Falling Man by Don DeLillo
Sleepless Nights by Elizabeth Hardwicke (I could read along with the Slaves of Golconda folk.)
The Dud Avocado by Elaine Dundy
Okay, I VOW to finish Kerouac before starting one of the above. That should keep me focused.
You know, I think I like the IDEA of having all these books to read better than actually STARTING one. I think I get a little freaked out by another commitment (Note to self: Sue therapist over not solving commitment-phobia issue). It takes me a while, too — at least 60 pages — to get really rolling on most novels. I have to force myself to stick with one ’til the hooks finally grab into my skin.
Not always. Sinking into Don Quixote, for example, has been like hopping on a trolley. Just get on and ride. I have a hunch the updated translation is a big help, though I know next to nothing about the science of translations, in the general sense or specifically about the history of this particular tome.
Enough rambling, dear readers. Time to visit Kerouac as I ride home on the BART…