that one.

oh 2666.  I have so many feelings about your pages.

Guilt - I am madly jealous of Kate for finishing this nasty book.  She is a more dedicated reader than I.

Confusion - I honestly feel like author Roberto Bolano was self-medicating as he wrote this novel.  Or else, we are talking some serious dementia.  Not sure.

Very slight admiration - for the most beautiful cover ever.  Not the pages inside.

A bit of disgust - the random hook-ups, cemetery stalking and beat downs were just weird.

I considered leaving this book on a random bench somewhere but, you know, I did finish a good 300 of the 900 pages.  Better than most in our book club.  After much reflection, I'm counting this as a book read.  I will refrain from throwing it against the wall and maybe use it for a good doorstop someday.

Moving on . . .

Pardon my absence as I read another 900 page saga on Ireland in preparation for Ireland (Trinity by Leon Uris).  Cross your fingers.