Thursday, February 26, 2009

Slow Reading

Sometimes having very little time to read can work to one's advantage. I'm stealing half an hour here, ten minutes there, on The Master and it feels, oddly, like the right pace at which to read the novel. Essentially I'm being made to savour every moment.

Last night I almost completed the segment on Constance Fenimore Woolson's suicide and it was painfully yet gently moving. Restraint can be so powerful.

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