June 20th, 2009

Nearly There

I took my own advice last night- and instead of lying there with a razorblade stuck in my throat,  got up, made myself a cup of tea, swallowed a couple of painkillers and read a book. It was the right thing to do.

The book I'm reading is the Hyperotomachia Poliphili. Yes, still. I've had it on the go for over five years and I'm on page 409.  Mostly it consists of descriptions of buildings, artworks and gardens that don't- and never did- exist.  We're getting some action now. Poliphilo has just died of love and Polia has dragged him into an anteroom. Soon he'll be coming back to life.  He has to, really, seeing  how he's the author. 57 more pages and I'll be done. It's one of the toughest books I've ever read- yet I've never felt like giving up.  Middlemarch was a chore, Idylls of the King was a chore, To The Lighthouse (for all its beauty) was a chore- but the Hypnerotomachia has never been anything but a pleasure- albeit one only bearable in very small doses.