As you may have noticed (if you're a regular reader of this blog), I've been reading quite a lot of Georgette Heyer. However, I have to confess that I have never read any of her books all the way through.
I usually lose interest at about the halfway mark, once the heroine's character has been established and her shopping all done!
I skip the large chunk (where she misunderstands the hero and his intentions) and go straight to the last chapter where all is revealed and she agrees to be his wife.
Actually I don't know why I even bother, but I am going to do the same for two more Heyers before I call it quits.
At the moment I am also reading A Year of Reading Proust, essays by Phyllis Rose, which I bought several years ago (and enjoyed then as I do now), when I still shopped at Silverfish Books. It reminds me that I have yet to read any actual Proust, but yesterday I told myself that I may as well resign myself to never reading him. (I have to stop thinking that I MUST read some titles. Why MUST? If I have not got around to them, or found myself unable to start or started but been unable to carry on, perhaps I MUST simply stop torturing myself.)
Oh, perhaps I will, someday, read and like Proust, but for now I shall enjoy him, vicariously, through Rose and Alain de Botton, whose How Proust Can Change Your Life was given me as a birthday gift some years ago, but I have yet to read.
As always, so many books, so little time ....