2666

Surprise! I love to read. For me there is truly no greater pleasure than to snuggle up on the futon in my book lined study or stretch out on the sunny window seat in the kitchen with a good book, a meaty book, open on my lap.

So it was with great pleasure today that I started Roberto Bolano’s posthumously published chef d’oevre, 2666. After the very real horrors of The Dark Side, the emotional rawness of A Happy Marriage and the inspirational yet harrowing message of Strength in What Remains, what pleasure to pick up a big (800+ page) novel and plunge in, knowing that I can look forward to a solid week of pleasure, living within the incredibly fecund, weird and wonderful mind of Bolano, an author I just discovered this year.

And I’ll have plenty of free time this week to read at night since Steve has suddenly morphed into a crazy Philly fan with a serious case of World Series madness. I won't have to feel guilty about disappearing upstairs to my study since he'll be either at the stadium cheering on the Phillies or in front of the television watching yet another game.