Alluding to my rubbisness

Now rereading Margaret Drabble's The Seven Sisters, which is a rather curious book. I read it first two years ago in England, around the time I got married. It reads differently now, but I notice different things since I went to grad school. I'm enjoying it, though missing the point of innumerable allusions, because I've never read The Aeneid. I am rubbish. Where my project this year is brushing up on the classics of the 19th century, perhaps for the next year I ought to get caught up on antiquity. I do fully intend to read The Odyssey though, which is a start. But even in my ignorance, The Seven Sisters remains a good story. There is always something a bit aloof about Drabble's characters, but this is made up for in the world she creates around them with such acuity.

Next up, one of my annual rereads. Oh, I can't wait. Slouching Towards Bethlehem.