Can't Blog, too Busy Reading

I've finished The Letters of Abelard and Heloise and The Speed of Dark. I wonder if I think about things too much. I try to come up with a brief synopsis of something I've read but I want to talk about what I think is important and interesting, what it's ABOUT instead of what it's about. I remember Northrop Frye's idea that what we read becomes part of our internal landscape, and each book relates to each book in a different way.

Well, I am currently enjoying The Tropic of Cancer by Henry Miller and A Moveable Feast by Ernest Hemmingway. Ah, Paris in the twenties. I am tempted to reread Ulysses because I can feel its echos in Miller's work, and it's been so long.

Apparently my local public library will be open next week--they've been on strike. I realized this is the moment I've been preparing for all my life, amassing books so I'll always have something to read. I grew up on a farm with really crappy libraries nearby, and I'm really afraid of going back to that kind of situation, not having all the books I want at my fingertips. All I can say is, thank you internet.