Updated Feb 27, 2026
— “God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater” — Kurt Vonnegut
— “The Illiad” — Homer (tx Emily Wilson; re-read)
On hold / In progress:
— “Kurt Vonnegut: The Complete Novels” — Kurt Vonnegut
— “The Years of Lyndon Johnson: Master of the Senate” — Robert A. Caro
— “An Enquiry Concerning Human Understanding” — David Hume
Quotes Page 25 >White > There’s nothing to follow. It’s all right. The things that I loved were very frail. Very fragile. I didnt know that. I thought they were indestructible. They werent. Page 53 >Black >No. I didnt. I didnt know what I was. But I thought I was in charge. I never knowed what that burden weighed till I put it down. That might of been the sweetest thing of all. To just hand over the keys. ...
McCarthy’s third novel. The one I’ve enjoyed the least. It is very dark, about someone with a sad life who descends into depravity. I read in two sittings, last Sunday and today. It feels like McCarthy still finding his form. The story is more or less a character study, following Ballard throughout his life. It’s difficult to say why I leave so uninterested in Ballard. It it not an interesting thing to be sad and lonely. Maybe the things that happen to a person to render them this way can be interesting, but watching a person descend was not for me. Ballard is dealt a bad hand and makes no decision to help himself, or even to not hurt others. He demonstrates little care for anyone, and is cold and isolated to the point of being a figment of nature. ...
Review from 7/2024 In the opening chapters of Stoner, Archer Sloane asks a young William, “Don’t you know about yourself yet?” Stoner seems always to be pulled between the idea of what he wants and what he is willing to do. He thinks constantly about what would be burdensome to others. Throughout the book, his placidity verges on ambivalence — as if he is aloof to the living of his own life. Sloane tells him later that he must remember what he is, and what he has chosen to become. We follow Stoner’s becoming for the rest of his life. ...
When I was in high school, we lived in a little * apartment in rural Illinois. It was across the street, a short walk from the factory where my mom (and several relatives) worked. We were on the South side of the tracks - a small open field separated us from them. Trains no longer run through this track and haven’t for years, as far as I know. I used to walk over to the high school, only about a mile away, but rarely with sidewalks available. ...