Isn’t this a decadent copy of Wuthering Heights? My dear friend Kim gave it to me for my birthday. Last year we read it together, and both of us loved it. We are in the fun process of picking other 4 or 5 books for these upcoming months. We have To the Lighthouse, by Woolf, The Last Castle, by Denise Kiernan, most likely The Death of a Nationalist, by Rebecca Pawel, Mansfield Park, by the one and only Jane Austen, and one or two more titles we are still thinking of. She is currently reading Les Miserables, and I’m preparing to read my first long book of the year, Ulysses, (and, ahem, I’ll be reading it in Spanish. I’m a firm believer in good translations.) It’s possible I read A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man first.
The picture below is of my ongoing readings. I’m almost finished with A Circle of Quiet, advancing quickly in The Cross, the last of the engrossing and simply beautiful Kristin Lavransdatter’s trilogy, by Sigrid Unset, translated by the amazing Tina Nunally, Christian Reflections, (essays by master C.S. Lewis), and Staying Alive, such a varied collection of poems, nicely introduced and arranged by topics by Neil Astley. This was another dear friend’s present last year.
Below, Death of a Nationalist, The Princes in the Tower, (both book club books), and three amazing titles: a book of essays by Ortega y Gasset, author I adore, The Dehumanization of Art and Other Essays, and two books of poetry recommended by the granddaughter of José García Nieto, Cervantes Price in 1996, the year after Camilo José Cela, one by Alfonsina Storni, the other a Spanish/English edition of poems by Gabriel Celaya.
Below two books on art I’m intending to read soon. In my twenties, I was obsessed with Magritte.
Two more books of poetry, one I’m always reading, by Machado, and one by Pablo Neruda.