Two Weeks in July

I’ve been having the greatest reading fortnight ever. I rebelled against all previous July ideas and have been on a holiday reading fling. I’ve read whatever I felt like, whenever I felt like it, and so July thus far has gone like this:

  • The Hundred-Year-Old Man Who Climbed Out of the Window and Disappeared, Jonas Jonasson
  • A Tale of Two Cities, Charles Dickens
  • The Enchanter, Lila Azam Zangeneh
  • A Severed Head, Iris Murdoch
  • This is Life, Dan Rhodes
  • Before the Frost, Henning Mankell
  • Let’s Pretend This Never Happened, Jenny Lawson
  • Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit, Jeanette Winterson
  • Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal?, Jeanette Winterson

Yes, that is a new book every two days (or less). This is partly because I’ve not been feeling well, and haven’t felt like doing much or moving around, but I think mostly this is because these are really good books. Sometimes it is easy to forget the escapist joy that comes with a good book, especially when your working life is centered around them. As much as I have enjoyed reading through a theme (like my war books) these books defy that idea. They have nothing in common with each other: Some are Swedish, one is set in Paris, there are American memoirs and memoirs from the 1970s North of England. There are essays, biographies, crime and decent stories. These books have felt like adventures in themselves. I’ve travelled around, seen into people’s lives and have fallen in love – with reading.

The slight downside of reading so much is that I am really far behind concerning actually sharing these really good books with you all! So I’m writing this update to hopefully guilt myself into writing some more posts soon.

I’m now reading Chocolat by Joanne Harris – about twelve years late, I know – and I’m really enjoying that too. May the manic, enjoyable, adventurous, falling in love with reading continue.