I've wanted to read this book for years and I found it on my parents' bookshelf yesterday while I was browsing for a copy of The Secret Life of Bees, which I ~also~ want to read, so lo, the tome of disintegration I did begin to peruse. Er. Whatever.
I'd forgotten how happily my brain hums when I'm reading. I abandoned reading big-time right after I graduated from college -- I don't even think I could read a magazine without starting to analyze or want to write a paper -- and it's taken me years to get back into the flow of my favorite childhood hobby. Aside from part-time arson with Mack Daddy Smooth. That, however, is a blog entry for another day.
I've been reading bits and pieces of all kinds of things, including Jhumpa Lahiri's Interpreter of Maladies (EXCELLENT), Ana Castillo's Loverboys (previous parenthetical comments also apply here), and my favorite magazine ever, The Sun. I just haven't devoured books like I used to and I miss being that grrl. But now, happily, she's back. Ahhh.
2 comments:
Interpreter of Maladies is amazing - my mom recommended it to me a while back. Considering most of my reading consists of science fiction or mystery novels, the fact that I read the whole thing in a day really says something.
I read this book about 3 years ago. I liked it, and could relate to Okonkwo's struggles.
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