Quick reading notes:
I'm nearly ¾ the way through Middlemarch. It's very interesting, although I'm wondering about Woolf's assessment that it is on the the few "adult" novels in the English language. I see the same level of miscommunication, romantic intrigue, personal crises, etc. in Pretty Little Liars, minus the creepiness. Still, a worthwhile read.
I'm tired of classical philosophy, for now, and so I'm shelving Plotinus for the time being. He's kind of tedious anyway. Every time he asserts something about the structure of the cosmos or the nature of God, I want him to prove it, and without using a Ouija Board.
Instead, I need to get into the pile of fiction that has built up on my shelves lately, especially stuff by Dostoyevsky, Tolstoy, Melville, Conrad and Dinesen. On the other hand, I've also been feeling a renewed pull by Existentialist philosophers, and there's plenty of Kierkegaard on my shelf to start with. So we'll see.
But first, to finish Eliot.
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