By no means have I given up on either Proust or this blog. We had Christmas, company, snow, more snow, and did I mention snow?
Your faithless Odette has been cooking up a storm and also writing, writing, writing. She left Proust for a bit and read Water For Elephants and a Carl Hiaason book, both good. She is working on her robot fish short story and her new novel and also the last novel which an agent is showing some interest in and she needs to make a few changes.
When you open the patient for surgery, so to speak, you always find a diseased gall bladder as well as the appendix, and things proceed from there.
It is a job keeping the birds fed, the Scottish Highland cattle fed with fruit and veggie treats, the cats fed and medicated, food in the house and on the table. We are applying to work the census, visit D.C. and life is just very busy, almost intense.
Proust would understand. I am going to finish the Guermantes book. I really am.
Did I mention snow? And the inauguration? Alas Marcel, I feel so guilty.
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1 comment:
I think that The Guermantes Way is longer than In Search of Lost Time. Longest book ever!
March on, Odette — Sodom and Gomorrah is worth the trek, and later on, the final volume — the rewards are vast.
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