Discovery

One of the aspects of Stone Reader that I remain enamored with is its casual broaching of hundreds of texts that remain outside of my immediate experience. I jotted down the name Raintree County on Friday night and found a copy at the library yesterday along with a tragic biography of its ill-fated author Ross Lockridge. Interestingly enough, the chap is from Bloomington, just a hour away from my desolate perch. The text is huge, over a 1000 pages, and the reviews on Amazon were uniformly ecstatic -- unfortunately too many people compared it to Gone with the Wind: no offense, Ms. Mitchell. I would say it is likely that one night I'll drink too much and order a used copy. There is something about those massive, messy tomes that I have always regarded as a challenge, a dare.

While out for a sunny stroll yesterday in the Highlans I popped into Harold's and bought a copy of Larry Brown's last novel Rabbit Factory. I look forward to reading that one but it will have to wait behind Cubano Bop, Magic Mountain and Shelby Foote volumes two and three. It would be a good evening to read but alas I am off to a wedding, though I suppose there will be time tonight.