Wednesday, March 19, 2008

As Noted

Many of my favorite experiences with literature have been of a Russian nature. It is no surprise that I think longingly of reading Dostoevsky while at my grandmother's house or with her at Spring Mill. Perhaps my timing and sequence have been sprained by circumstance and opportunity. It appears to have originated with Fyodor and then proceeded, later, to Turgenev, Nabokov and, only then, Tolstoy, followed by Solzhenitsyn and Vasily Grossman.

Of course this is generalized, but is a beacon, a warm hearth to return to in uncertain times, hence samizdat's delightful reading of Fathers and Sons two years ago. I am presently reading Solzhenitsyn's Cancer Ward after picking it up a few times in the last 4 years or so.


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