You’ll have to wait a bit for mini-reviews, because I can’t upload to my web server.
I spend the first 20 days of July reading purely Spanish literature, some of which I’ve finished, some of which I haven’t. In the end, after 20 days, I’d become sick and tired of Spanish literature, and turned to other things – in particularly my Eastern European project, which started with the rather mad Tadeusz Konwicki. The one book in this project I’ve finished so far was by Egon Hostovský, a Czech writer – a book called The Arsonist, which was so-so.
I read seven books in total, and watched thirteen films – oh no, fourteen films, because I watched Mario Bava’s joyful horror film A Bay of Blood last night (after becoming bored witless watching Superman Returns).
I’ve been thinking this month I should read some Portuguese-language novels, since they rather missed out this month – and I might do a series on lesser-known British novels of the c20th (just because I have a few I’d like to read). But no doubt these ideas will come to nothing.
Ideas often do – it’s fun to just strike out though and see where the current takes you (personally, I’m currently being pulled off to Iceland with no thermals on…).
My reading ideas never amount to anything. I come up with all these schemes, but in reality I’m always just going to take up the book that appeals to me at the moment I’m choosing.
As to Iceland, I only know Halldor Laxness. I might read some more of him soon.
Under the Glacier is one of my favourite 20thC novels; the combination of bone-dry comedy, surreal flights-of-fancy and cosmic wonder is utterly beguiling. I recently read The Atom Station; not nearly as good, but with its moments.
I also felt The Atom Station wasn’t all that good. The other one I’ve read, though, The Fish Can Sing, I really enjoyed.