book monster

today i read a book. a whole book. and not a fluffy trash book either--a real one, that i'd never read before. both the act of reading, and the book itself, were both wonderful.

recently, my reading has been reduced to two kinds: (1) current events reading on the train; and (2) re-reading at home. it's been a long time since i bought a new book, and even longer since i read a substantial portion of one in a single sitting. but since i'd called in sick and found myself at home alone for most of the afternoon, i picked it up and couldn't put it down. the loveliest part was that i didn't have to. except that i have a 930 frisbee-in-yonkers date tomorrow, i had no responsibilities or commitments to worry about today. how wonderful.

i read never let me go by kazuo ishiguro. i'd read remains of the day before, in modern comparative fiction last year or so. they're sort of similar in that both are pretty simple, plot-wise. in never let me go, nothing really HAPPENS. this girl just lives her life. it's all in the first person, told in memories and flashbacks. really very simple, as far as the storytelling goes. but you just get to know the people. they become real in some way. like your friend is sitting on your bed telling you this story.

i was going to write more, but i'm distracted and tired. i planned to talk about how reading that stupid review might have ruined me for the book and about playing ultimate tomorrow and about the party last night. but i'm not going to force it, and instead i'll just stay goodnight and wait for a better day.