What a weird night. I suppose most normal people don't spend their Friday evenings reading Anna Karenina. I knocked off a few tens of pages like a few shots of vodka, but without the vodka. It was easy to do because one of the main characters rediscovered an old love and another one began to go mad; this provoked a deal of drama within the story and made it go quicker.
So like a pilgrim on a dusty road, the drink of water and nap under the tree has improved life for the next few miles. I fully expect things to slow back down and go back to slogging by tomorrow. I mean, I'm sorry Tolstoy, but I'm a 21st century American and I don't have the attention span for this. At least in War and Peace you had some social conflict going on; this introverted high-society bullshit is really getting on my nerves. Although the account of Vronsky trying to commit suicide and failing miserably was kind of entertaining. (I mean, how do you stuff a revolver into your left side and pull the trigger and miss?! I mean, what a loser. Not only was he a bad lover, a bad horseback rider and a bad money manager, he couldn't even commit suicide if he tried. At least he ought to have punctured a lung or damaged the spinal cord or something. And to just lie there bleeding everywhere without doing anything proactive to finish the job? Till the servant comes in to clean up the mess! The man deserved to live. Or maybe the Russian army issue sidearms of the period really sucked. I don't know)
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