I have been feeling intellectually challenged lately, and also very bored. So I went on this book-buying -binge at Om bookstores in Saket. Got a little pile of them. ‘Silk’ by Alessandro Barrico, ‘Alchemy of Desire’ by Tarun Tejpal, ‘Raise High the Roof Beam, Carpenters and Seymour’ by J.D.Salinger, ‘Sex and the City’ by Candace Bushnell, and a couple of other glittery-looking novels whose titles I have forgotten.
These were to be my sturdy rungs to intelligent redemption. However, when I reached home, I saw an unread copy of ‘A hundred years of solitude’ which I had been trying to read ever since I was in college. So,I put my recent buys on the table, lay down on the sofa and decided to finally learn about the mystery of Macondo (is that what the village is called?) But after the gypsy gets his third invention to the village, I start feeling sleepy......
And then stayed up half the night reading ‘Sex and the City.’
These were to be my sturdy rungs to intelligent redemption. However, when I reached home, I saw an unread copy of ‘A hundred years of solitude’ which I had been trying to read ever since I was in college. So,I put my recent buys on the table, lay down on the sofa and decided to finally learn about the mystery of Macondo (is that what the village is called?) But after the gypsy gets his third invention to the village, I start feeling sleepy......
And then stayed up half the night reading ‘Sex and the City.’
Comments
I guess Marquez falls into the last category :-)
'Love in the time of cholera' gathered dust for nearly two years before I finally got around to reading it, and it was lovely.