The other day I had a weird dream.
I dreamt that someone was angry with me. She/He kept yelling because I had never read Anna Karenina and insisted that I had to start reading Russian literature because according to her/him it was the best literature in the world! Some Homer-VS-Bart kind of choking might have been involved while the statement was made.
Funny thing is, a couple of days after that, Google very kindly let me know that September 9th was Leo Tolstoy’s birthday (the writer of Anna Karenina, among others) and another couple of days later, I stumbled upon a reference to him in the book that I’m reading right now, Virginia Woolf’s Waves:
Once you were Tolstoy’s young man; now you are Byron’s young man; perhaps you will be Meredith’s young man…
And then I realised that in the novel I had read right before, Jonathan Franzen’s Freedom (awesome book by the way, well worth the read) he also makes an apparition. One of the main character’s reads War and Peace in order to impress the guy she’s in love with. So needless to say, I had a bit of a Droopy episode. Wherever I looked, he was there!
Oh, THE SIGNALS!
OK! I get it! I get it! I’ll read it, I promise! … Specially if it’s this edition:
But for now just let me be! I don’t have money to buy any books right now. *weeps*
PS: Adore Delano was probably part of that dream, as well.