I am tying them up before migrating to Paris a week from today, and trying not to think too much about the middle seat that was all that remained when I booked my ticket. Two days ago I finished watching "Breaking Bad," and breathed a sigh of relief. Now maybe I could get back to reading. But last night, at a dinner with friends in Berkeley, someone said "The Wire" was fantastic (and someone else said her brother-the-lit-professor was teaching a course in "Breaking Bad.") Sure, it's violent, but the form of the thing is fascinating" the quick changes of register, the humour, the characterisation in which verisimilitude is not the point, the landscape shots, the credits, the veerings into pure cinematic abstraction, etc.
What to read on the plane? I think I'll download the kindle version of Louise Penny's latest thriller--that should keep me from screaming for a few hours and maybe I'll even sleep, given my intensive course in meditation. It's the arriving after a white night that's worst, the metro trip, the lack of an escalator at my station, the opening of the shutters, the empty fridge, the body adapting to all this.
Had a problem the other day. I was about to order a new Italian novel to be delivered in Paris, but when I went online I discovered it was half the price on Kindle, a serious difference, something like $11.00 as opposed to $24. And I'd have it immediately. It's not as if I can find it in a bookstore, unless I go to Italy, which is out of the question. Still dithering.
Finishing up the final draft of a Bonnefoy translation, and first draft of a new Cixous translation. Reading a biography of Penelope Fitzgerald, not in itself an outstanding book, but interesting especially about her life after she began writing and publishing.