Monday, November 12, 2007
Having nearly a full hour commute to work would seem to many a nightmare: What I’d initially thought was bad luck (delays) getting into and out of Manhattan using the subway is, in fact, routine. But I’ve come to accept this fate graciously knowing my rent has been cut in half and apartment size has doubled since moving out here. Alas, I have more important problems to occupy my mind: I am not a multi-billionaire, am not married to Hugh Jackman, and cannot figure out how to get my Showtime on-demand working. Furthermore, viewing this time as valuable to doing other things, I recon, would be better: I’ve turned to reading more, and reading different things.
Unlike recently where I exclusively read non-fiction, newspapers and magazines, I’m endulging in fiction – literature, mostly. Not NY Times best-sellers but real literary classics; It’s remarkable. Having been to undergrad and grad school for almost 7 years, the reality is that since high school I’ve only taken two English classes. The rest have been studying mathematics and disciplines using mathematics. The use of language for something other than function – communicating a point of theorem or in a power point presentation – has been relatively foreign to me. As a mathematical person, the arts I’ve exposed myself most to have been, as you well know, classical music, the opera in particular.
But with two hours a day I find I can get though about 300 pages a week, with some non-commute time thrown in (from time to time I’ll stare at the buildings and bridges on my way in). I’ve gotten through “A Tree Grows in Brooklyn”, “The Grapes of Wrath”, “The Sun Also Rises,” “Reservation Road,” and, just today, “To Kill a Mockingbird.” It’s been marvelous. I actually look forward to my bus ride into the city because I'm not just reading the New York Times, The Economist, or Newsweek bitching about politics or the war on terror, but literature.
Any suggestions?
Why don't I blog about these books as I do the opera? Good question. Bobby's turned me on to "Good Reads" and my network is there.
Unlike recently where I exclusively read non-fiction, newspapers and magazines, I’m endulging in fiction – literature, mostly. Not NY Times best-sellers but real literary classics; It’s remarkable. Having been to undergrad and grad school for almost 7 years, the reality is that since high school I’ve only taken two English classes. The rest have been studying mathematics and disciplines using mathematics. The use of language for something other than function – communicating a point of theorem or in a power point presentation – has been relatively foreign to me. As a mathematical person, the arts I’ve exposed myself most to have been, as you well know, classical music, the opera in particular.
But with two hours a day I find I can get though about 300 pages a week, with some non-commute time thrown in (from time to time I’ll stare at the buildings and bridges on my way in). I’ve gotten through “A Tree Grows in Brooklyn”, “The Grapes of Wrath”, “The Sun Also Rises,” “Reservation Road,” and, just today, “To Kill a Mockingbird.” It’s been marvelous. I actually look forward to my bus ride into the city because I'm not just reading the New York Times, The Economist, or Newsweek bitching about politics or the war on terror, but literature.
Any suggestions?
Why don't I blog about these books as I do the opera? Good question. Bobby's turned me on to "Good Reads" and my network is there.
# posted by otas : 6:45 PM
