Recension: Mio, min Mio | Review: Mio, my Mio

Mio, min Mio av Astrid Lindgren är en fantastiskt vacker bok. Det är den första bok jag har läst av Astrid Lindgren som inte handlar om Pippi Långstrump, så var jag ganska förvånad. Den var mycket mer lyrisk och ledsen, det som var mycket oväntad. Historien handlar om Bo Vilhelm Olsson, en 9-årige föräldralöst pojke. Han hittar sin far, konungen av Landet i Fjärran, och fick namnet Mio från honom. Som konungens barn måste Mio kampa emot den riddar Kato, en ond varelse som har rövat bort många av Landet i Fjärrans barn.

Mio, my Mio by Astrid Lindgren is an amazingly beautiful book. It is the first non-Pippi Longstocking book I have read by her, and I was quite surprised. This book is much more lyrical and sadder than the Pippi books, which I didn't expect. It's about Bo Vilhelm Olsson, a 9 year old Orphan who becomes Mio when he finds his father, the King of The Faraway Land*. As the child of the King, Mio must fight against the knight Kato, an evil being that has abducted many of the children of The Faraway Land.

Jag hade en känsla av sorg och vemod hela tiden när jag läste denna bok. Till och med när Mio lekte i Landet i Fjärran och berättade om hur trevligt han hade det där kände jag hans sorg. Skrivningen var väldigt enkelt och lätt att förstå, men det bara gjorde sorgen ännu mer klar. Astrid Lindgren var inte alls rädd för att visa mörkret i den här boken, trots att den är en barnbok. Det är ingen förvåning att så många vuxna kunna njuta av den har boken och jag ser verkligen fram emot att läsa Astrid Lindgrens andra böcker, om de är såhär.

I felt a strain of sadness and melanchol throughout this book. I could feel Mio's sadness even when he played in the Faraway Land and recounted what fun he had there. The writing was very simple and easy to understand, but that only made the sadness clearer. Astrid Lindgren wasn't at all afraid of showing darkness in this book, even though it is a children's book. It's no surprise that so many aduts can enjoy this book, and I am really looking forward to reading her other books, if they are like this one.

*My own translation.

/Currently Reading/General Update

And, to keep things interesting, I'll write this post in reverse order. Why? Well, why not? And why cram so many things into a single post? Why not make three separate posts and so better make up for my pitiful failure to stick to my resolution?

Well, because nothing much has happened to me recently. Or, rather, nothing I can quite get myself to spin into a lengthy blog post, hence the complete lack of such over here.

So, of all the nothing that has happened to me, where do I begin? Well, the most exciting thing by far was my boyfriend's visit. In that week I went to both Winchester and Hay. Yes, The Hay, the one on-Wye. Winchester was very nice, but why talk about Winchester here when I could be talking about Hay? Hay was gorgeous. Unfortunately, I was only there for about eighteen hours in total, as it took six hours to get there and around five to get back, and we only stayed one night. That is not a mistake I will be making again!

The hotel we stayed in, The Swan, was lovely. The staff were all very friendly, and the food was very delicious - I was treated to the best pork crackling I ever had, and who knew I would warm to black pudding? Sadly, I had an awful headache that night, and managed to come out in hives on top of that, so we couldn't go out into the garden and look at the stars as we had planned, but we were assured that the garden was a perfect spot to stargaze from.

And Hay, what little I saw of it in around eighteen hours, was gorgeous. The bookshops were plenty, and so were the hills, impressive scenery and cosy-looking eateries. If I had more money hanging about, waiting to be used, I would have impulse-bought a house and settled down there immediately.

And finally, the books. I had actually done a lot of bookshopping in the weeks before, courtesy of a good friend whose family gave me a National Book Token voucher worth fifty pounds. And so, just two days before arriving in Hay I was, if you will believe it, burnt out from book shopping. I went into Foyles, and saw a few books that have been on my TBR for the longest time and I... I left them there. With money remaining on my voucher, waiting to be spent! That, of course, didn't bode well for a trip to the town of bookshops, but thankfully things went down fairly well. Nothing like crammed second hand books to refresh the reader's soul. I ended up buying eight books, including three Granta magazines and a Paris Review. I am still slowly reading my way through one of the magazines (Granta no. 16 - Science. Number 16! Wow!)

Oh, and did I mention that these eight books cost me no more than £24? Because those books, together, cost me no more than £24. The only regret I have is that I didn't pick up more Granta magazines...

So, as we can see, the trip to Hay was an all-round success to be repeated, if possible, without the horrible headache next time.

Other than that, I have been deeply thinking about my plans for the future*. These plans seem to include moving to Sweden, at least for a short while. Only a few months ago, these plans seemed permanently directed towards study in the Netherlands, but the Sweden plans feel a bit less likely to change.

However, the future still feels far off to me, so far off that I can even dream of finishing all twenty two books on my currently reading shelf by then... wow, what an elegant segway that was. I hope we are all taking notes. Yes, my currently reading list is long, so ridiculously long that I have sectioned it into books that I am actively currently reading, and books which I am not currently currently reading, but which I was once currently reading and expect to be currently reading again soon. And that doesn't even include the forty something books I've placed on hold until further notice. Like that, it almost makes me want to cry.

So, what am I currently reading currently? I am continuing with Kaninhjärta by Christin Ljungqvist and, as Swedish has suddenly jumped up in my list of priorities, so has my progress through this book been ramped up a few notches. It continues to be interesting and lyrically written, but it has actually taken a while to get to the action. Even now, over a quarter of the way in, are we only beginning to see the story proper progress.

I am also slowly making my way through Ben Aaronovitch's Rivers of London as a tandem read with a friend. Said friend has recently started a job which requires her to read very boring documents all day long, which leaves her with little mental energy to read the fun things. This tandem read was dreamed up for several reasons, the first being that I intend to get her to read aloud from it (as practice), the second being that we both have had it on our TBR without getting more than a chapter or so in and the third being: she needs to get back to being able to read for pleasure. It'll be great for us to read this together and discuss, I think. We are also planning on finding books in French and German to read together, wish us luck.

Lying somewhere in between the 'currently reading right now' and the 'currently reading a bit later' sections of my currently reading are The Magician by Raymond E. Feist, which I may have mentioned a little while ago, and Ancilliary Justice by Anne Leckie, which was probably mentioned in the same post. If it wasn't, it ought to have been. I am also, as said, reading through the Granta 'Science' issue, which is extremely interesting.

I was going to finish with a Lit Corner here, as I have finished three books since the last post and we all know that three is the perfect number for a Lit Corner. However, this post turned out a bit longer than I expected, so I'll save the finished books for another time.

Happy Blogging!
Little Newman

*A time period which, when used by me, tends not to extend more than a few weeks, or a year, at most. In fact, that is a most particular, far flung future that lasts about four years. Even typing it out seems strange, to the me who lives day-by-day.

Oh, what's this thing again?

Hello, all, hello. Well. Urm. It's been a while, hasn't it?

Oops.

And I even started writing two very long posts!

So, what have I done since last May? I visited a château, I left Tours, I goofed around in London, I read books, I received visitors, I studied, I read more books and I went to Sweden again.

And now, here we are, all the way in 2015!
2014 ended pretty well, with my visit to Sweden before Christmas. Two friends came over from France soon after, to celebrate my birthday with me, and I had a princess party!

But, this blog is about none of these things, for this blog is a...
LIT CORNER!

Amazing, I know.

So, I recently finished three books, the perfect number for a Lit Corner.

First was Lexicon, by Max Barry.

I had first come across the book through Goodreads first reads, but sadly I didn't win a copy of the book :( the concept was incredibly interesting - 'poets' who can use words to quite literally force people into following their orders. We're not talking persuasion here, unless it's the kind of persuasion that puts a gun to your head.

So, I liked this book. It wasn't until just before midway through that I realised what was going on: we have two stories being told in parallel: the story of Emily, a young homeless trickster with a way with words, and the story of Wil, an Australian whose day gets seriously interrupted by abduction.

So Barry takes these two people, and weaves a tale where language - where words - are weapons and the bad guy is coming for us, and we have to stop them NOW. This is not Sci-Fi, but I'd hardly call it fantasy, either. It's cleverer than that. It's a thriller, and one that kept me well and truly hooked, but it's also a story about love, and the way that society keeps tabs on and controls us. It's also a lot about being human.

While this was a great book, I feel it could have been executed better. Parts of the ending didn't sit right with me. However, I can't really fault the character building and the ending as a whole, although not perfect, made me contented enough.
Also, the cover is beautiful.

-

The second book I managed to make my way through was The Word Exchange, by Alena Graedon.

Here is another first reads book. I bid for this at about the same time as Lexicon, and although I was more excited by Barry's offering, Graedon's is what I received. The Word Exchange is about a not-too-distant, startlingly familiar future, where devices called Memes (a smarter version of the smart phone) are beginning to do all of our thinking for us and... spread disease?

I was pulled in by yet another gorgeous cover, but somehow found myself being let back out again really quickly. I reviewed it on Goodreads, and here is (roughly) what I said:

I started this book when I received it, several months ago, put it down, and then only very recently picked it back up once more. In all honestly, it's not too difficult to plough through, but that is what it feels like: ploughing through. It's incredibly verbose and full of quite unusual, sometimes ill-advised word choices. Two very ramble-y narrators only make the going tougher.

But the story they tell is compelling, and when I actually applied myself to the task, the reading became much easier. However, I am left with questions which I feel will never be answered, the foremost of which is: how does this disease work? It is central to the plot of the book, and yet aspects of it remain very fuzzy indeed, and not just because Graedon applied Science in order to make it seem more plausible. I mean, okay, I understand how one strand of this disease works, and I can just about lower my plausibility defenses enough to let it pass. But apart from that, I have no clue. None whatsoever. The book leaves off before the characters have managed to reach any solution, which is perfectly fine in general, but here it makes things feel as though they have simply been skimmed over.

My other issue is with the romance. I honestly wanted Bart and Anna to get together, and as characters I believe they suited each other. But the way the romance developed felt so unnatural and false: worse than a case where two characters are simply forced together by a willful and headstrong author is a case where two characters, wonderfully compatible, still feel forced together. It's a massive shame.

Otherwise, the book is an interesting read. It tries, perhaps, to do a bit more than it was capable of - certainly, a book which fails to do all that it is capable of doing - but it still offers quite a pertinent look at the way we use technology, and how this changes the way we use language and interact with the world around us.

--

And, finally, in quite a different vein from the other two is Notes From Underground by Fyodor Dostoevsky.

I have also reviewed this book on Goodreads, and here is more or less what I wrote:

'because I am a cad, because I am the nastiest, most ridiculous, pettiest, stupidest, most envious of all the worms on this earth...' (p.143).

Well, Underground Man, when you put it like that, I'm almost thankful. You said it yourself, now I don't have to.
I wanted to like this book, so very much. I wanted to find it 'hilarious' and engaging, and so much more, but I didn't. I hated the book, and I hated the Underground Man: in his own words, he repulsed me.

But at the same time, he is all of us. Like him, 'we have all got out of the habit of living, we are all in a greater or lesser degree crippled... We have really gone so far as to think of 'real life' as toil, almost as servitude, and we are all agreed, for our part, that it is better in books' (p.151).

Yes, Underground Man, you are right. I do feel that way. And perhaps, Underground Man, what I hate most about you are the things that I see in myself, exaggerated a thousand times. The little insecurities and bitternesses, the pettinesses, the humiliations that we all of us have experienced are put under the microscope by the Underground Man and we have to face everything that we wanted to avoid.

That being said, ignorance is bliss, and I'd be quite happy to never have forced my way through this very short book, and to never, ever have to read it again.

--

Other than these three books, I have also read (since last Lit Corner): A Room of One's Own, by Virginia Woolf, Phaedrus by Plato, Popular by Maya Van Wagenen, Deerskin by Robin McKinley and Let the Old Dreams Die by John Ajvide Lindqvist, but I think you will probably all be sorely deprived of a lit corner on these gems.

So, until next time round,

Happy reading and
Happier blogging,
Little Newman

Lit corner!

This year, as with last year and the year before, I am signed up for the Goodreads reading challenge. All it entails is you setting yourself a goal of how many books you want to read, and then reading them.

Last year, and the year before, I set myself the pretty ambitious goal of 100 books. Kind of embarrassing that I only finished six :/ this year I'm going with the more reasonable goal of 50 (although it's still quite a lot!) I don't count rereads because - well, it's a challenge. I'm notoriously terrible at finishing things, anyone who knows me can vouch for that. So this time round I hope to at least break into double digits.

I'm not just doing this as a challenge, I'm doing it for me. People who don't know much about literature students are surprised when they hear I don't really read. People who don't know much about lit students, but who do know a lot about me are more surprised. When I was younger I was constantly reading. During class, when walking, at meals... I tell you, the literary character I most identified with was Matilda, and not just because of the magic powers!

I wanna get back to that. I want to start reading again because I like being a reader. It's one of the few things I ever did with any real dedication, and it is a huge part of my personality. So who am I without books?

At any rate, the challenge is off to a good start. I finished my first book today - La Résistible Ascension d'Arturo Ui by Bertolt Brecht. I read it for a class but I enjoyed it nonetheless. When I've got another book or two under my belt, I'll do a Lit Corner for y'all :)

Happy Reading and

Happier Blogging

This is Little Newman,

Over and out

I can feel it coming in the air tonight...

What? What can I feel coming?
Another Lit Corner...

So, I finished reading To the Lighthouse. Which, yeah, made me feel pretty great.
But how did I actually feel about the book? Well - I don't know. Before I started reading To the Lighthouse, I started reading Mrs Dalloway. I didn't get very far because - well, it's hard. Uninterrupted stream of conscious is not easy on the brain.
Well, what does this have to do with To the Lighthouse? Apart from the fact that they're written by the same author? The point I'm going to make here is one of readability. While I never got very far into Mrs Dalloway, and while I found it difficult, it felt natural. It was beautiful - the expression of feelings and emotions was exactly what it needed to be. The sentences were long, and difficult to get your teeth into, but I could empathise with them. To the Lighthouse? Not so much.
There were times when I just felt like shouting: 'You're doing it on purpose!'
There were times when I actually shouted: 'You're doing it on purpose!'
That is not, of course, to say, that it was bad. On the contrary, it was very good and clever, and my appreciation of it raised as I continued onwards with the book - reaching a peak when what Woolf had written helped me get through my own, sticky authorial situation. And yes, there were times when the turn of phrase that is so particular to her style had my heart expanding in my chest because really she can distil beauty into words. But I still can't quite look past that horrible feeling I had at the start, or when the narrative would drag - purposefully, but confusing nonetheless. And so for that, To the Lighthouse loses points. But I guess I shouldn't make any final judgements until I at least finish Mrs Dalloway.

I also mentioned in the last post that I was reading Ulysses. I still am. In fact, that little peek I took at Ulysses helped me get through To the Lighthouse. Because if ever an author was doing it on purpose, than James Joyce was. Ulysses is not as impenetrable as it first seems - although I'm only nine or so pages in, so there's plenty of space for it to get worse. However it is a finely knit cloth of classical references - as the title would suggest. It's a good thing I managed to by both The Odyssey and The Iliad in the same trip as I bought this, then! So far the text is mostly English, with a little bit of Latin and the tiniest amount of Greek thrown in to shake off the paupers. Of course, these days Google is there to solve any problems we might have. Sorry, Joyce, looks like there will be comprehensibility for anyone who is brave enough to take you on!
There are also obvious Wildean under- and over-tones, which I am enjoying greatly. I'm getting the feeling that, all in all, Ulysses will be quite a rewarding read, if not always an enjoyable one.

Of course, I could go into the theory behind these two books. I can tell you why Woolf and Joyce have 'done it on purpose'*, and what they have achieved. I can probably throw up a few of the more overt references, as well as some of the more covert ones. But that's not really what Lit Corner is about, is it? Lit Corner is my own response to the books: informed, but not constrained, by my understanding of literature and my life as a Lit student.

So, what else am I reading?
Well, I'm rereading L'étranger, by Allbert Camus, for my lit and philosophy class; L'Immoraliste, by Andre Gide and Monsieur Vénus, by Rachilde for my class on 20th century French sex and sexuality, and The Iliad to supplement my reading of Ulysses.

In Web Lit, I'm currently reading and enjoying Kudzu, by Bernie Mojzes with illustrations by Linda Saboe. This, I think, is pretty amazing. I'm thoroughly enjoying it, and the illustrations are absolutely gorgeous.

Well, I think that's about all worth mentioning for now.
This has been a Lit Corner with Little Newman.

Thank You for reading!

Happy reading and
Happier Blogging,
Lots of Love,
Little Newman
xxx

*for those who want to know, to explain and demonstrate philosophical beliefs (Woolf) and because of the Modernist aesthetic and understanding of art (Joyce). In a nutshell. There are probably a few other nutshells, to, but the end result is the same.

LIT CORNER!!

Guys, I'm so excited. You're going to get a Lit Corner! Okay, so it'll be much reduced from it's normal standards, but a lit corner is a lit corner, right?

So. For those of you who don't know/ don't remember/ don't care, a lit corner is pretty much me chatting about the books I'm reading and am planning to read.

This session of lit corner involves In the High Valley, being the fifth and final book in the What Katy Did series by Susan Coolidge and In Watermelon Sugar by Richard Brautigan.

So. First book first.

In the High Valley is the little known fifth book of the 'What Katy Did' series. The fourth book is Clover: also little known. I had found it going free on iBooks, and had read it in a very short space of time sometime last year, and I had loved it. My review can be found here. I had read a free sample of the fifth book as soon as I finished it, and finally got round to buying it the day before yesterday, or sometime thereabouts. (A version was going for £0.49: how could I resist?)
Well, I was kind of disappointed. The book was not as good as the previous ones. As said in my Goodreads review, it tied up a few loose ends that I hadn't realised were left undone, and it let Elsie's character really come into her own, which was very nice to see. But the story as well as its telling left much to be desired. Telling, being the operative word. Susan Coolidge has always been one to give a lot of information: in particular her naming of flowers was something that stood out to me. But before, I had always felt whatever the characters were feeling. I understood them, and their behaviour, I liked them. The (ostensible) protagonist of this book was not someone I liked, and this was mainly because Susan Coolidge didn't seem to like her, either. She was a new character, not one of the Carr's, and she was underdeveloped and poorly thought out. The story didn't seem to focus much on her - another point of difference between this and the other books in the series. The view jumped from character to character, letting me see them without letting me feel them. I knew pretty early on what was going to happen, and I just didn't care. I read the book to the end - it is a short read - and it was enjoyable for me as a diehard Katy fan, but I really wouldn't recommend it to anyone who doesn't love the books as much as I do - there's not even that much Katy in it!

With these sad tidings, it's on to this weeks second book:

I want to say that In Watermelon Sugar was a joy. I cannot say this. However, I cannot say that it was a disappointment, or that I disliked it. I don't really know how I feel about it, to be honest, but I will definitely be taking a second look in order to find out.
In Watermelon Sugar is a very easy book to read. In some ways, it reminds me of Slaughterhouse 5. A short book with a simply-written, self-conscious narrative. Check. A prevailing sense of disconnection. Check. An element of fantasy. Check.
Not to say that In Watermelon Sugar is unoriginal. It is very original indeed. And, I would certainly reccommend it. For all of its simplicity, the book and the world it describes is very complex and incredibly hard to understand. Every now and again you catch a glimpse of a possible truth, a possible reading. And then it hides itself again: not shy, but teasing. Come and get me, the meaning says, you know you want to. And I do. I do so want to understand this gem. It came to me highly recommended, and I enjoyed reading it - a page turner, if only because each chapter is so short. I want to know what iDEATH is. I want to understand its inhabitants, and their past. I want to know what inBOIL was talking about. In some ways I identify with the narrator. In other ways, I am alienated by him. This is okay. This is all how it is meant to be. This book is that feeling of comfort, of blindness, that allows you to settle in a situation even though you know it is wrong.
I look forward to returning to it, to understanding it more. But I think a break would be good.

What will I be attempting to read next week?
To the Lighthouse by - of course - Virginia Woolf. La Légénde Arthurienne by various authors (which I have been reading for quite sometime. It is difficult.)

In other news, I really wish I had enough money to go and see Eugene Onegin but even if I did, it's sold out. Ah well, next time, eh?
Also, maybe a film corner will be necessary? A couple of my courses require me to watch films, and I'd love to share them. My most recent favourite is Little Otik (Otesanek), a Czech film of disturbing proportions. Other favourites from this academic year include A Bout de souffle, Une femme est une femme and Jules et Jim.

Well, this is me, signing off.
Happy reading and
Happier blogging
Lots of Love
Little Newman
xxx

Lit Corner

I've finished American Gods and The Importance of Being Earnest this week. Both are wonderful books, although quite different, and not just in terms of form. Neil Gaiman weaves a deliciously intricate plot about gods and mystery and love that is just stunning. It's a large book for a large subject, but the length doesn't detract or spoil the book in any way. In fact, one rather finds oneself wishing that it would never end because the world he creates is just so completely fantastic.

The Importance of Being Earnest is as ridiculous as American Gods is fantastic. Its frivolous and silly, and it makes fun of its characters in a manner that is beautiful to behold. It is very Wilde; I'm sure there is no one else in the world whose pen it could have come from.

That was impressively pompous. Learning French has made me view the use of 'one' as a pronoun (personal or otherwise) in a far more favourable light.

So, the rest of the books I have been reading this week

On Saturday, I started reading The Republic by Plato. I'm still at the intro, but I'm enjoying it. The translation I have is easy to read, with clear footnotes that ensure the meaning of the original text is not lost.

I have also restarted reading The Hundred Secret Senses by Amy Tan. I adore her writing style. It reminds me, in the way that it alternates between our world and a dream world that seems to be the past, of The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy. Tan's writing style is humorous yet slightly heavy. You feel the weight of the issues and emotions of Olivia, who narrates, but you can get past her mortification enough to chuckle at Kwan, who makes the best of every situation.

I'm pushing my way through chapter thirteen of The Picture of Dorian Gray. Pushing is very necessary, it is without contest the dullest and most needless chapter of the book, for the most part, but I see the light at the end of the tunnel and I'm using the hope it gives to guide me through. I've already read the end, a while back, when I despaired of ever being able to get past chapter thirteen. I'm looking forward to reading the entire book in the order it appears, with the middle, middle and the last, last.

I'm rereading Northanger Abbey by Jane Austen, along with a collection of her Juvenilia. It is incredible to see the similarities and differences between her earlier writings and her later- the way her subjects are treated (she always satires, but her mockery is more subtle in her later works and therefore less ridiculous). It's quite nice to watch her grow- I feel almost like a proud mother, or her mentor :')

I have also started reading In Rememberance of Times Past (A la Recherche du Temps Perdu/In Search of Lost Time) by Marcel Proust. Well, when I say started, I mean I know what the title of the first part is, and it's very possible I have started reading the first sentence. I mean, it's Proust. I'm pretty sure carrying it your bag counts as starting it. Opening it marks you as literary elite. (Those who have actually read it are the ruling classes. Those who have read all of it -past Volume I!- are priceless gems who should be sought out and cut as such.)

I intend to finish at least another two of these this week, as well as to start Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier, The Joy Luck Club by Amy Tan and Madame Bovary by Gustav Flaubert- in both French and English.

In other news, I am trying to teach myself Russian.

I'm doing this, for now, through poetry.

225 by Osip Mandelshtam and that poem by Boris Pasternak that appears nameless but begins 'February. Get ink shed tears...'

Soviet Russia. Cheerful as ever.

I'm learning the alphabet first, pronunciation etc. I think it's be easier that way.

So.

Happy blogging and happier reading!

This has been a literary post

Lots of love (and admiration for those who've made it through- for a while I wasn't even sure if I would make it!)

Little Newman

xxx

Bonjour!

You have been sorely neglected by me once again, dearest blog, for which I am intensely sorry TT__TT I have no excuse.

On other notes, however...

This week, I've been to see Cabin Pressure be recorded un... deux... TROIS times. Stalker much...

I'd never listened to it before, so I didn't know what to expect. I got particularly anxious when we were queuing, and there were many -erm- elderly people hanging around. I was, therefore, pleasantly surprised when I found it to be actually really very funny. Not to mention that I fell in love with pretty much the entire cast...

This picture is taken from Monday (before the heavens opened and I got drenched right through to my bones...)

The shirt I found in my mothers bedroom. It was my aunt's, apparently. beautiful cream silk from Wallis. The skirt and shoes, by contrast, are last year's from Primark :') The headscarf is one of my mothers from an age ago. I'll not lie, I felt very pretty and summery.

However, when it rained, i just felt cold and see though...

This book is what I'm currently focusing most of my attention on reading. I've been reading it for a fair while now- over a month, but I'm not very far in... that'll be the A2s kicking my arse. But from what I've read of it so far it's awesome.

So, I urge you all to read it. Also being read (or purporting to be read) by myself is Samson Agonistes by Milton.

I opened it, fearing that it would be like trying to read Chaucer, but again, pleasantly surprised. I'm actually enjoying it (or what I've read of it.)

I also need to finish reading Anna Karenina before the film is made! I'm very excited for the film, although as a general rule I am not in agreement with film adaptations of books as they don't follow the story line closely enough. But this is different, due (almost solely, I'll own) to the absolutely gorgeous cast.

Gorgeous.

So, this has been a post my dears.

Thank you for reading through my ramblings about clothes and literature.

Joyeuse Paques!!!

Happy Blogging

Lots of Love

Little Newman

xxx

So today, I feel like blogging again; to be honest, I'm not all to sure why.

What I did today.
I went to bed around four thirty/fivish, and was woken up at nine twenty something by my sister, asking me if I was on the bus, as I was meant to go to her house for breakfast.
I replied that sadly, I was not and that her call, in fact, had been the thing to wake me up.
She was not impressed, so we decided to reschedule. She said she'd call in the evening.
I then spent another few hours lying in bed.
Washed my hair, the end result of this being that I now (apparently) look like Lionel Ritchie. At least before I (apparently) only looked like someone in a Lionel Ritchie video.

I took my brother to my sister's house at around eight this evening, where my cousin already was.
It was really lovely, and they both kept me laughing. Those two really make me feel good.
And then I went home.
That is pretty much my day.

I really wanted to write today, some more of Edges Of Perfection, but I don't know if I can. I'll give it a damn good try though, for Leisha who spurred me on :') she is so lovely.

And I have some additions to my -already- disgustingly long reading list (which I've not shortened one jot over the course of this holiday).
They are:

• Gone With The Wind by Margaret Mitchell
• Orlando by Virginia Woolf
• Breakfast at Tiffany's by Truman Capote

As well as just some general Wodehouse.
I'll post my full reading list up here some day, so you guys can appreciate my true pain.

But now, with prawns long gone from my belly
And a head empty of ideas
But a leg filled with them
I'll bid you adieu
Hope you're days are as good as mine :D
Happy Blogging,
Lots of Love
Little Newman
xxx