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Buy the books on Amazon, and watch videos of some readings.   Please.

Monday, December 09, 2013

Transatlantic by Colum McCann

Mo said she was quirky by James Kelman

Only 200 pages mustered.  Too bad, a big fan of Kelman's How Late It Was, How Late.

Now it seems to be by my fault that I'm not finishing reading books, after always priding myself on being a finisher, good or bad.  Impatience?  Extended bad mood?  Encroaching old age?  Sudden clarification of sharp personal idiosyncratic literary taste?  Advancing alcoholism?

The Flame Throwers by Rachel Kushner

Was liking this a great deal during the wartime and motorcyle sections, but quickly lost interest once the Manhattan art-scene-talk started happening.

Too bad.  It's that sexy, nyc book-du-jour movement that I'd loved to seem to be a part of, but ain't.

Dissident Gardens by Jonathan Lethem

Didn't finish it.  Not my fault, author's fault: I finish reading books all the time.

New label?