Under A Lash

The gnout of work has resumed, though the differential between that and my holiday, per se, remains minimal. I was ultimately disappointed in Ascherson's Black Sea, the text teetered between travel literature and an unusually jumpy approach to the migratory dynamics of the Black Sea region, which by its size dismisses quick generalizations.

I am almost 300 pages into Book of Memories and remain at about p.150 in the Pope's Rhinoceros. One of recent acquisitions has been whispering to me. George Gissing's New Grub Street continues its beckon.