1. The Journalist and the Murderer, Janet Malcolm
2. To the Lighthouse, Virginia Woolf
3. Pale Fire, Vladimir Nabokov
4. The White Album, Joan Didion
5. A Bolt from The Blue and Other Essays, Mary McCarthy
6. The Rest is Noise, Alex Ross
7. The Dead Father, Donald Barthelme
8. The Chairs are Where People Go, Misha Glouberman and Sheila Heti
9. Madame Bovary, Gustave Flaubert
10. War and Peace, Leo Tolstoy
11. The Enormous Room, E. E. Cummings
12. The American, Henry James
13. The Sun Also Rises, Ernest Hemingway
il fait trés beau aujourd’hui
— Truman Capote, In Cold Blood
Just picked up this ‘semi-fiction’ work yesterday and stayed up into the early hours of the morning reading it. Capote is a master of toying with the reader’s emotions and his imagery is so phenomenal. I found myself taken aback when the Clutters die, though it should have been obvious and not heart-wrenching, but it was completely the opposite. The sequential logic of the book is brilliant as well, making it so that if the reader is paying close attention, he or she should be able to denote what will happen next simply by being analytical.
I’m only 160 pages into it, so just about halfway, and once I finish I will write a complete review! These are just my laudatory thoughts that were bouncing around my head the entirety of my early morning reading.
I really want to adopt a chicken, but I live in the Chicago suburbs.
Nope. Not going to stop me.
Happy Hens = Happy Savannah