So, this weekend I devoted to moving apartments for the duration of the summer, and trying to make sure I unpack as little as possible because I'm going to need to do this again in a few months. But, more importantly, I went book shopping at two different Half Price Books.
I managed to get three books by Margaret Atwood, whose book on writing (Negotiating With the Dead) I'm currently trying to work my way through in spite of my messed up sleep schedule. I also got The Age of Miracles by Karen Thompson Walker, who visited Coe this past year and seemed to know what she was doing in writing the book. As well as having a fantastically quotable book, with some of said quotes signed and hung around the Writing Center. Somewhere. There were also books by Umberto Eco (wonderful historical fiction). And a book on writing by Jorge Borges, about whom I know little more than that a large amount of the philosophers in my Contemporary Continental Philosophy course liked quoting him. Which, I suppose, is as good a reason as any to pick up a book.
Most importantly though, I grabbed a copy of Tolkien's translation of Beowulf. Which, for whatever reason, was not published until this May. Though that does go a long way towards explaining why I couldn't find the thing no matter how hard I looked, even though every Medievalist who discussed Tolkien mentioned how wonderful his commentary and interpretation of Beowulf was for the study of fantasy literature.
Perhaps I'll get lucky next time I visit Half Price Books and they'll actually have a copy of David Foster Wallace's Infinite Jest.
-Patrick
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