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.
Settling In and Waiting for September
16 hours ago