leo and ladies

A friend of mine told me to go to bed an hour early. Use that time to read. It’ll help you relax. Only reading never helps me relax because I get too excited.

I spent Friday afternoon at Borders. I picked up “CRANFORD” by Elizabeth Gaskell. It’s a tiny little thing and I had to have it turned out for my book club on Tuesday.

I’d forgotten how much I loved it. Just like I’ve forgotten so many others I read when I was young. Really young. Sometimes too young.

Like “WAR & PEACE”. I picked it up the summer I turned 12 – because it was the biggest book I could find and because my teacher kept asking ‘Are you sure?’ and making random comments about a plot line she knew nothing about.

By the time I finished I realised two things. Henry Fonda made a crap Pierre, and my teacher had never read the thing. But beyond that, there was so much I missed. So much reading in between the lines I didn’t do because I was too busy tripping over words like Bezukhov and Rostov and Andrei Bolkonsky. I’ve read it four times since then and picked it up again recently when my sister rediscovered Anna Karenina and we both began to wonder What must he be like in his own tongue?

I can’t sleep now. But I don’t dare try to read. Because then I’ll be up ’til morning.