I knew there had to be more of us out there--readers without adequate access to books. In her post "Reading as an Expat," Gretchen of Readers Without Borders (a site I just discovered last week) proposes that the Sony Portable Reader is a potential solution for those of us who can't pay the hefty shipping costs (or wait the extra month) for new books. It sounds like a good idea and has the potential to provide a quick fix for stranded bibliophiles. However, the selection doesn't look all that fantastic and not quite worth the investment at this point. Hopefully, this changes in the next couple of years. It would be amazing to have near-instant access to new books: the perfect motivation for concentrating on getting through my current stacks and not worrying about running out.
That said, there's still plenty for me to read and investigate in my second language. My present practice of always having two books on hand--one in English, one in Spanish--is helping considerably. I'm hoping (as ever) to be able to share some coherent thoughts on John Barth and José Edilberto Zuluaga soon. (I read a critique that complained of certain aspects of the latter, including the fact that after finishing the novella, the reader still couldn't understand what the title referred to. Needless to say, I felt pretty happy about figuring out the title's double meaning by page 15, but that doesn't necessarily mean I understand it any better than he does.)
But for now, there are report cards to do. I let Pandora play as I sit here on the tile floor and revel in my newly-acquired broadband connection. Yes. I am actually typing this from home.
A new leaf.
The apartment I'm renting was sold, and although I'll be here till November, the former owner had her furniture hauled away last week. It's nice, though. Very clean and minimalist. (I am currently typing away on top of a cardboard box.) I regret the loss of the cheap, black bookcase, but my stacks now surround me as I sit here and hope to write some sense into things.
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3 comments:
run out of books??? is that even possible? I can't imagine being at a point or place in my life where I've run out of books to read!
It's a scary, scary place...
I meant, I can't imagine how good it would feel to actually be all caught up on all the books I have to read! of course, if I only had, say, 3 books to last me 6 months, then yeah, I'd jump in the nearest lake and drown in my own tears, but I'm drowning in a stack of unread thousands while life's brevety sits there mocking me. the thrill of coming to the end of a book, finishing the last chapter, that feeling of accomplishment and satisfaction, magnified by I don't even know how much coming to the end of the last book on my shelves and exlaiming haha! I've read them all! good lord, how great that would feel! freedom to go bookshopping without the guilt of all the neglected ones at home! true anticipation, like those days when I first started buying books. no backlog, everything ahead of me...
ahh, I love books and the wonderful misery they cause me! :-)
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