What was I thinking?! picking up Autumn of the Patriarch for a tired journey beginning on a Thursday midnight! No, I have not traveled through even 100 pages of it yet, despite having traveled many miles on either side of the equator in a crammed plane seat. It is not a travel companion, but a book to be read when you are in one of your ‘streams of consciousness’. Now that I am more awake, I am enjoying it much more.
As I am home for a week, have picked up Sebald’s Emigrants where I had left it. Somewhere in the midst of a melancholic tale. It is deeply touching and haunting, as Sebald’s writing always is.
My Mumbai break is well-timed, with Landmark just beginning its annual sale – picked up a decent lot – Llosa’s War of the end of the world (which got a repeated mention in the comments on my post on Death in the Andes here) and Coetzee’s Inner Workings being the highlight purchases. Now all I have to do is read them.