There has been little in the way of an update to this meagre blog, mainly due to the fact that not much has been happening. I am reading, of course, an inordinate amount of pages from the 19th century (which should excuse any heights of language to which I here aspire), but that's about it. I hear on the wind that there's to be a bit of a movie night tonight. Even so, that's not much of a change from the usual. For those who might care, and those who don't, I am presently making myself acquainted with the Right Honourable... Sir Walter Scott. His novel Guy Mannering is my present occupation, though I hear it is not one of his most popular. It has held my interest, though, for 320 pages, and I do not think I'm stretching my faith in Scott's authorship when I say that it will probably remain agreeable still for the 200 pages I have left to go. After this, I must blitz through Thomas de Quincey's odd memorandum entitled The Confessions of an English Opium-Eater. I make my confession this: that I did not know till now that opium could be eaten. Ah well. There will always be ignorance of something, great or small, to humble us.
Posted by Molly Lewis at 11:13