My bad habit of not being able to pick just one book to read continues. At least they’re all fairly complimentary, so its not like try to suck on a sherbet lemon whilst chewing a toffee.
I thought I had liberated myself from my Haruki Murakami obsession when I gave away my newly purchased copy of Kafka on the Shore as a present. But just whe you think your out, he reels you back in. I’d only read the first two pages and they hadn’t grabbed me at the time, but for weeks now they’ve been popping back into my head with greater and greater intensity. What was it all about. So on the late Friday trip to Borders I caved and bought copy number 2.
Its been a week of multiple purchases as I also bought a second copy of The Curse of Chalion by Lois McMaster Bujold, having lost the first copy at the gym. This is an exceptionaly well crafted courtly fantasy that I picked up more out of curiosity about the author than the book, but I’ve been completely charmed by it.
And then there are the two little books of Ted Hughes poetry, Crow and his translation of Ovid’s metamorphoses that I’ve been carting around in my work bag for the last two weeks and picking at. I like Ted Hughes’ writing for having such an incredibly male presence, which I don’t find in poetry very often.