Clover

I have spent considerable time this weekend launching deep into both Our Man in Havana and The Death of Virgil. One serves as relief from the severity of the other. Greene remains his sardonic self, conflating issues of espionage with infidelity and drowning both in a potable predilection.

We went to the library sale yesterday and picked up 5-6 plays, a handsome two volume set of Wells Outline of History, a fascinating Cuban novel about the disappearence of Caruso and the Mano Negra, the Jennifer Egan novel which inspired my interest in the Woman in White and another Paul Bowles novel.

as usual, there was nothing of interest in the NYTBR.

I believe I will postpone my nocturnal reading of Wilkie Collins until the Greene has been completed.