Chapter One: Book Obsession

I admit it: I am pretentious. I love flouting my knowledge. I love being right. I love Jeopardy (I almost tried out for the college edition). I love reading classic French literature, and then saying I read classic French literature - I especially like arguing that Zola, NOT Balzac is France's greatest writer. I love sitting in the subway reading my Zola (in French) and feeling self-important. But hey, at least I admit it!

I am a devourer of books. I inherited this from my mother. When I visited home during college, there would be books on my bed that I just had to read. Even now, I am reading three books at one time. Aaaand, two of them are in my bed. Yes, I have progressed to sleeping with my books. It is truly sad.

I don't know how this happened. Wait, yes I do. I have a big bed and was reading late into the night and fell asleep. Sad.

My apartment does not show my book obsession. My room at my parent's house does. I even have them in piles by category (I know, I know, it keeps getting worse). Jogging my memory I have piles for: French books/grammar books, Harry Potter, Impressionism/Post-Impressionism/art, French history, fairytale literature, Jane Austen, and classic lit. I believe that is all.

My tastes are a bit odd. They range from anything to do with Van Gogh, to Austen, to Poe, to Zola, to the history of Paris, to chick lit.

These days, I am trying to only buy used books. I am a mild environmentalist and feel guilty about all the trees. Plus, I love reading other people's margin notes. I love it. Sometimes the notes are entirely insipid, but sometimes they surprise you and you end up reading an entire paragraph/page/chapter differently.

Right now I am reading Au Bonheur des Dames by Zola (I confess, I have read it in English as well), Sunflowers by Sheramy Bundrick, and I just finished the Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society by I don't remember the authors because it is in the other room and I don't want to get up.

I am sure that my pretentious and assumed literary airs will seep through again. Be forewarned.

Yours,
SW