Last week, while I was visiting my parent’s on my “vacation,” I had plenty of time to do nothing. Which in my world translates to reading.
In some strange turn of events, not only did I only only pack three books to take home with me—E saw the pile of books before they made it into the bag, and it was much larger then—I didn’t even finish them all.
Granted, I did read Chuck Palahniuk’s Snuff, a book that I could not pack because I did not own it, but I still had the last third of Austen’s Emma to read when ME showed up to begin our trek back up to Chico.
Which means that I finished Palahniuk’s Invisible Monsters, which I’ve already talked about, in conjunction with Snuff, but also Machiavelli’s The Prince.
Quite an odd selection of reading for a week, to be sure. Tossing in a treaties on how principalities are acquired and kept, and how to keep from losing them, doesn’t seem to combine well with a pre-victorian novel about the life of English gentility, or a modern American transgressional novel about the search for self.
However, reading The Prince has me prepared for ruling principality, whether one is handed to me, or I take one by force.
It also has me wanting to read more about the renaissance, and the Medici family. Anna recommended The House of Medici: Its Rise and Fall by Christopher Hibbert, and luckily enough both libraries in town have a copy so that I’m not tempted to buy it (I am a starving college student this summer, after all).
I’ll probably pick it up this afternoon, seeing as how I have to return a few books to the campus library for Mrs. Jesus. I can’t say that I’ll read it right away, but I’m definitely looking forward to it. It’s been awhile since I read a non-fiction book that wasn’t assigned to me.
My book pile is steadily dwindling. There is a good chance that I’ll finally read through all the books in my room that have been waiting for months—or years— to be read. I don’t know what I’m going to do with all of that shelf space that will be free.
Whenever I go on vacation, I always bring books with me, thinking that I’d read them while laying on the beach or by the pool. And I pick the titles carefully, hoping/thinking/wishing that the person sitting next to me has read it, and can offer their own personal insight, yet.. I never do read the book regardless of it’s content or background.
PS: I found your blog via 9rules.
i’m glad 9rules brought you by
i can’t say that i pick books hoping that other people have read it, but a lot of the books on the pile are there because someone else thought they should be. with the book pile steadily dwindling (only five crap romances left from the massive pile i began with), my roommate teases that she’s going to start sneaking books on my shelf.
and it’s not so bad that you never get around to reading the books you take. it just means you’re having fun on vacation, which is the entire point of vacation. i just know if i don’t pack numerous books, i’ll read through what i do have on the first day, and then drive myself nuts not having something else. it’s been awhile since i’ve been on vacation with other readers, where we could swap books when we were done.