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What I am reading

this is the highly subjective way I read and interpret literature

(I mostly read classic belles-lettres, but you’ll find some examples of trashy readings here and there as well)

I made it through Adam Bede, Somehow I made it through!

Adam Bede - Stephen Gill, George Eliot

Aaarggh, that was a tough one! I really start to hate my university for making me read books like Adam Bede.


This was about 30 pages of plot and 570 pages of absolute boredom! Adam Bede is basically a very detailed description of 19th century life in a very, very, very small English town. And when I say detailed, I mean like every freaking sunray shining through curtains, branches or just plain windows gets a description, which is 2 pages long and people say weird stuff like:


'What! dost think thee ’st finished the door?'

'Ay, sure, what’s awanting to ‘t?

'Why, thee 'st forgot the panels.'


or they talk in an extremly annoying way like this (which especially becomes a pain in the arse, when dialogs like this stretch over 10 pages..):


‘Eh, what am I t' do wi' burnin' candle of a Sunday, when there’s on'y me an' it's sin to do a bit o' knittin'?'


The book moves so very slowly, it's quite a pain to read and after a couple of hundred pages you start asking yourself what actually had happened, and the answer is: pretty much nothing!