For as long as I can remember, I've nurtured the annoying habit of reading multiple books at a time. I know, I know. It's like being that person who flips to a new channel every thirty seconds because they can't decide on what to watch. Well, I don't switch books every thirty seconds - it's more of a weekly basis depending on what I'm reading. Some books demand my complete attention, others sway my interest only in fleeting moments. I've had this problem with Hemingway lately - I'm down to less than a chapter a month. Maybe it's the stream-of-consciousness writing style that let's me pick up right where I left off weeks later without much of a problem, but who knows.
Any who, I'm back to Hemingway. I've been working on For Whom the Bell Tolls since the end of last year's winter semester (don't laugh, it's long). The story takes place at the height of the Spanish Civil War and follows a young American dynamiter named Robert Jordan. He is assigned to a republican guerrilla brigade in the mountains to help blow this bridge up, which is going to prevent the fascists from launching an attack. When he gets there he encounters resistance to his assignment by some, friendship from others, and love from one.
I've now reached chapter forty three and the elaborate scheme to blow the bridge up has just been set in motion. Everything seems to be going smoothly so far but the bridge remains to be blown and there is an ominous air about the whole thing. Jordan keeps reassuring himself that everything is going to be fine, but knowing how Hemingway likes to end his novels (I'm still upset about A Farewell to Arms) I have a very bad feeling about this.
The real question is how can there be twenty-two pages left... But Ernest will manage I'm sure. He can be a little long-winded.
I spent a few hours tunneling through chapter 43 on a very comfy couch I came across on the fourth floor of the union (I think it was the lobby of the Student Organization Resource Center...). Given it was a Sunday, it may not be so quiet during the weekdays, but for some weekend relaxation it more than suffices. Just look at those plush cushions.
This week I finally decided to invest in a commercial-free Spotify account and I love it. I've had Frank Ocean's Channel Orange on repeat for two days now and I just can't get enough of that silky voice of his. Rhythmic and slow, it surprisingly good reading/study music, granted you manage to contain the urge to sing along.