Return of the non-native

[vaznetti]

Thanks to the great conspiracy of secretaries, I now have a University Card and get get into the Bodleian--ah, Lower Reading Room, how I missed you! Enabler of my habit of consulting obscure hellenistic philosophers rather than reading monographs! Source of random back-issues of Latomus! It's best in summer, once you make it up there. The undergraduates are all gone, so there's plenty of space. My stalker (in fact a distinguished professor of something-or-other) is still there. So are most of the usual suspects, none of whom I know by name. Thank goodness. Eventually I'll see someone I know, but not yet.

Oxford in summer is truly awful, though. It's packed with tourists and language school students--I'm going to have to take to swinging bags of books and canned goods at knee level to clear a path for myself. And of course it's chilly and miserable more often than it's sunny and warm. The stores are full of summer clothes on sale, and frankly, it's no surprise--what you really want is a nice wool sweater.

I have very little to say for myself. The B.H. discovered Jasper Fforde, who writes strange books--sort of a cross between Douglas Adams, Terry Pratchett and Connie Willis. I suspect that either you find the idea of the Seven Wonders of Swindon and Miss Havisham leading rage counseling sessions for the characters of Wuthering Heights funny, or you don't. (Apparently the new book is out. Must go hunt it down, I think.)

Comments

[vaznetti]

I think oyu might like the books--although Shaye is right that they're kind of clunky--but you really need to go see the website. I now want a pet dodo. really.