To say that I've been making little progress in my reading of late would be an understatement. It's take me a long time to finish Part 1 of Thomas Hobbes's Leviathan, yet that's not much more than a hundred or so pages. I suppose my being unforgivingly busy for most of this term is partly to blame, but the majority of blame should fall on the shoulders of this reader himself. It's not that I can't get going on the text; in many ways I find it fascinating. But Hobbes demands intelligent attention as he builds his argument, and I generally can only sustain those most necessary qualities for a couple of paragraphs at a time. The funny thing is that as I'm reading the paragraphs I find myself entirely engrossed, yet as soon as I've got the point in question I'm quite happy to put the book down.
For someone who regards himself as something of a reader I can be astonishingly lazy at times.
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