Given that my last post on a book was over a month ago, you all might think that I've given up on my reading plan for the year. Not so! In fact, I'm just heading into prime reading time. Granted I need to shove about 86 books down my throat in the three months before school starts again, which is probably about a novel a day, but hell, I can do anything, right?
The Great Gatsby is one of my all time favorite books. This is the only school book that I will include on the list, because I read it out loud. I love reading Gatsby out loud. The rhythm of the sentences, the simple against the complex, is absolutely brilliant. I could read it over and over and over.
I was thirty. Before me stretched the portentous menacing road of a new decade...Thirty--the promise of a decade of lonliness, a thinning list of single men to know [preach on, Brother Fitz!], a thinning brief-case of enthusiasm, thinning hair. But there was Jordan beside me who, unlike Daisy, was too wise ever to carry well-forgotten dreams from age to age. As we passed over the dark bridge her wan face fell lazily against my coat's shoulder and the formidable stroke of thirty died away with the reassuring pressure of her hand.
Next on the list...who knows. Part of the problem is that I want to start about 60 different books right now. We'll see; it'll be a surprise.