13 January 2010

The pleasures of hibernation in a big city. Holed up all day playing with Buzz, washing up, sleeping. Glimpsing the garden wearing its fresh white mantle. Then heading out into the damp dark, buttoned and booted, to take the tube to town for a spot of reading. Wintering in the metropolis has much to recommend it. Incidentally I am still enjoying The White Castle but once again I find that in the act of reading literature in translation I am more than occasionally put off my stroke by inelegant constructions in the prose. I don't have Turkish and so cannot know, but I'm guessing Pamuk's style must be smoother, more musical, than the English version published by Faber and Faber.

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