I had such good intentions. I was going to read Charlotte Bronte's Villette. I was going to participate in conversations over at the blogsite, The Valve. I was going to prove that my brain isn't turning to mush.
With my niece's visit, I fell behind in my reading. It was only week 2. And now, I'm willing to admit defeat. I find this book so boring and this narrator so detached that I have no drive to catch back up.
I feel somewhat guilty, yet I know what happens when I force myself to read something I'm just not getting into. I end up reading nothing--sometimes for weeks at a time.
I'm not in grad school. I'm not teaching the book. It was never on the list of Great Books that I mean to read before dying (like Anna Karenina--I simply must read the Russians before I die).
I came across this article which posits that some great books should be left out of the canon. Villette is not exactly part of the canon. I'm giving up.
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