I finished reading one book this month, and it was a short story of only 70 little pages. It would have gone unread on my shelf, only I had to reference it in my final assignment of the trimester, so I dutifully read the entire thing. I loved it.
Bartleby, the Scrivener written by Herman Melville, published in 1853. It’s a bizarre story, one that I interpreted as political – but odd enough that it’s open to many interpretations. It was easy to get through and I found myself chuckling in a few spots, and grimacing too. It’s weird, yet it deserved 4 of 5 stars. The narrator, a man who employs Bartleby, tells the story of this employee who begins to refuse to do any work, yet also refuses to leave the office. It’s quite funny, and interesting, and has prompted me to write something equally strange. I’m excited.
After realising I only completed one book this month, I took it upon myself to rearrange my bookcase so that what I am currently reading, or yet to read, are grouped together and easy to find.
Part of the problem is this month I began quite a few books but barely made a dent in any of them. I have a month before uni goes back for trimester 3, and in that time I want to finish at least a couple of what I started, but also realising I should prioritise the books I need to read for my next unit, in which I’m studying crime. I’m looking forward to reading and analysing Agatha Christy and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. (I wasn’t sure whether to include the Sir but thought I had better just in case it’s a necessity.) (No, seriously, do you need to include it? Asking for a friend.)
I’m looking forward to October. To reading, and creating. I wonder what adventures will unfold? In the least, a few books will be read, and you’ve got to be happy with that.