No Excuses

Today's rain notwithstanding, it has been a delightful time as of late and there is no apparent cause for the dearth of activity on this site. I have been reading but in different gears with mixed results, to say the least. For now forgotten reasons I elected two weeks ago to read what I imagined to be novels about the soviet experience from western perspectives. the first of these was Politics by Adam Thurwell. It was a christamas gift from sister-in-law Tihana. It was not about the Soviet Experiment but rather about posh twenty-somethings in London who have sex and complicate their lives. A waste of a terrific Sunday. I then read Commisar of Enlightenment by Ken Kalfus, which depictts some tenuous fictional links between Tolstoy's death and the embalming of Lenin. The last few pages were remarkable but otherwise it was a yawn.

I then elected to re-enage with Auto-Da-Fe by Canetti after a brief pause of decade. No better luck this time, either. So, there it is.