For the first time in my life, I am disappointed with myself and reading. I am a reader. I love books and they play an integral part of my life. I remember when I was a little girl, I would sleep with books under my pillow - reading until late into the night and then reading first thing in the morning. I would devour books so much that my mom refused to buy them for me because I would finish them within the day, and she sent me packing along to the library where I fell even more in love with reading.
I'm such a book nerd that I convinced my friends in Paris to do a book club, and so we began - each of us excited to share a book. We were reading on the metro, the bus, the train and in parks around Paris; all working to finish the same book. It was fascinating.
But being on my internship takes up a lot of time and sometimes I ended up just plain tired, and I was also trying to read four books at the same time. . . and so I failed. For the first time ever, I was the one who didn't finish my book. I was the one who hadn't gotten through it all. I remember in high school when we were assigned book I would have them read a week in advance.
But I did eventually finish and I didn't do the book justice. I think I was thrown off by the boat scenes, the fishing, and sometimes that plain violence in the book. They say Hemingway writes things in a very clear and descriptive manner and he does so much that some of the scenes were utterly graphic. If you have read this book, you cannot deny that you didn't feel his arm hurting after it was shot. I was near sick when I read that scene.
We had our first book club meeting and it was good. Next meeting is next week, we will be going over Robert Heinlein's Stranger in a Strange Land (which I loved ;-).
