I Know I Did Something Else Flaky, But I Forget What

April 11, 2006 @ 1:46 am | Filed under: Books

This one goes with the toenail-painting blunder. You know your brain is going when you start calling friends by the wrong name. The other day, when I saidβ€”

A Room of One’s Own, which I somehow never got around to meeting until last year, became at once a close friend, Anne-and-Diana close, a book I felt I’d known all my life before I was three chapters in. It is for me an August book, to be reserved for a certain kind of sun-drenched day, when the air is heavy but the heart is light.

β€”I meant, of course, A Room with a View, a golden book, not a gray one. A Room of One’s Own is February reading, and we are only on gravely polite terms.


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Comments

3 Responses | | Comments Feed

  1. Well, I did kind of *wonder* … and thought, “Should I go dig my Virginia Woolf out of the bag I have ready to go to the Goodwill? Did I miss something?” πŸ˜‰

  2. Whew! You had me worried there for a bit. I certainly don’t always enjoy the same books other people enjoy, but I don’t usually have a completely different understanding altogether.

  3. LOL–You must have thought I was nuts. Of all the books to make that typo with! So completely the opposite of the kind of reading experience I was describing!