Uggggghhhh. Sometimes I don’t know why I do it to myself, choosing books like this to read (or at least why I don’t quit when I’m not enjoying it). I think its that I always suspect the book is going to get better, especially ‘classic’ books, because otherwise why would someone still be putting it on some ‘100 books to read’ list (including a scratch off poster of important novels that I am very keen to scratch off entries on)? Two years ago I read […]
Read ‘A Tree Grows in Brooklyn’ Instead
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man by James Joyce
