As promised, I did take up a new book into my lap. 'The swimming pool library' by Alan Hollinghurst. Got to 56th page or so and will continua. My great escape from 'Lolita'. Only to discover its the same!
They say, books have rather different impacts on one when read in specific phases of life. We will find diverse meaning of the same pages if read five or so years from now, 'Little Prince' is a great example. Mum's observation on what I read was, bestsellers. Yet, how exactly I choose books it is unknown to me. I do not judge the book by its cover, but the older the cover, the more I am driven to it.
Lately, the choices of books I made are somewhat sequencing each other. When I realized I wanted to write these were the books I was going to bed with: 'Gideon' by Russell Andrews, 'The thirteenth tale' by Diane Setterfield, 'The girl with the dragoon tattoo' by Stieg Larsson, and I think there was one of John Grisham too, all depicting ghost writers.
Now, after 'Lolita', a classic about a man who is rationalizing his obsession and passionate love towards a 13 year old girl; I stumble across a very erotic, detail explanatory homosexual acts of love. Should I be concerned over my superstition?
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