Well, this week I did it. I finished the first movement of A Dance to the Music of Time. I put the book down (well, ok, kind of threw it) and there was that woman on the front, staring up at me with her sly smile, mocking me. "Ah ah ah...you still have three more to go..!" Damn you woman! Damn you Nick Jenkins! Damn you Anthony Powell!
I'm not sure which is worse...the prospect of three more movements, or the daunting task of getting through Wings of the Dove. Ok, I'll admit it: I would rather continue to read Powell for the rest of my life than have to suffer through another Henry James. Please, sometime tell me that The Ambassadors is the lowest of the low...please someone tell me that Wings...can only be an improvement!