“I am reading six books at once, the only way of reading; since, as you will agree, one book is only a single unaccompanied note, and to get the full sound, one needs ten others at the same time”
~ Virginia Woolf
People aren’t journaling or blogging so much these days. At least not the ones I usually read. Some are, but a lot aren’t. I blame social media. I use social media myself (only FB) so I’m not criticizing it, but journaling has become yesterday’s thing, it seems.
Anyway, my friend Susan asked me the other day, in a plain old-fashioned email, what book(s) I was reading at the present time. I never answered her because that would mean I’d have to compile the list and write it all down, yada-yada-yada… so I put off answering. I figured since I haven’t written a blog for a while, I’d use this as an excuse for one.
My question for you, Readers, is
“What book(s) are you currently reading?”
And don’t be afraid to not only name them but also opine as to how you are enjoying them.
I’ve gone ahead and itemized the books I’m currently reading, which is so disorganized that it’s almost embarrassing. I have two spots in the house where I read – one is here in my big chair in the living room, which is not my preferred “reading nook,” as you know, and which is why I transformed the dining room into my “Reading Room” (now called The Sanctuary, BTW), back a year or two ago – I can’t remember when. So I have two lists of books I am currently reading, one is in the living room and the other is in the Sanctuary. Here goes (oh, and I have pictures, too!):
Living Room Reading:
Fall River and Other Uncollected Stories of John Cheever
The Colour by Rose Tremain
The Middle Age of Mrs. Eliot by Angus Wilson
The Persephone Book of Short Stories
Inheritance by Robert Sackville-West
My preferred reading spot is in the Sanctuary. It’s a sanctuary for more than just me! Belle enjoys it, as well:
My chair (and Belle’s lambikins that squeaks!):
My current books in The Sanctuary:
The Stories of John Cheever
D.H. Lawrence: Late Essays & Articles
Virginia Woolf: A Critical Memoir
The Bedside Dickens: An Anthology for Pleasure
The Noise of Time (A novel by Julian Barnes)
Batty Green by Dennis Brickles
Through a Yorkshire Window by William Riley
The Miscellaneous Works of (Oliver) Goldsmith (pub. 1868)
Remember, Remember: The Selected Stories of Winifred Holtby
England’s Pleasant Pastures An artistic pictorial trip through beautiful England.
I wish there were a “save & resume” button in this place! I’d love to be able to save what I’ve written but not have it go anywhere… just in case I hit a wrong key and it disappears! Alas, we’ve all experienced THAT before!
So with all the above-itemized books sitting there crying out to me to “pick ME up!” every day, the sounds are almost deafening, and sometimes I just sit there, next to my beautiful Belle, and we both just have a think. No reading, no studying, no deciphering, no smoke coming from our heads… just cool, calm being together.
Here’s her bed in this room…
She sometimes sleeps here; I find that white upper bed all bunched up some mornings, so I know she’s been “burrowing.” She is the first dog we’ve ever had who is a “burrower.”
And here is her bed in the living room:
This is where she chooses to sleep most nights… either in/on/under that bed or on the sofa which probably is used most often. Softer! More people-like.
She likes being able to keep an eye on the front yard, her front yard.. the garden… and all those who live there, too.
And then there are these two beautiful spirits… always here with us, loving us from afar but still deep within our hearts:
…never to be forgotten. I wonder if Belle can feel them here too?
Bex & Co.
I think I could turn and live with animals…
They are so placid and self-contained,
I stand and look at them sometimes half the day long.
They do not sweat and whine about their condition,
They do not lie awake in the dark and weep for their sins,
They do not make me sick discussing their duty to God,
Not one is dissatisfied… not one is demented with the mania of owning things,
Not one kneels to another nor to his kind that lived thousands of years ago,
Not one is respectable or industrious over the whole earth.
~ [Walt Whitman, from “Leaves of Grass, No. 32”] ~
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