On a trip to Daryaganj yesterday (details here)I picked up a book titled Wodehouse the Fictionist by Maha Nand Sharma. It’s a rather interesting book of Wodehouse litcrit. Since I like crit and I love Wodehouse, I was quite pleased with it.
When I got home and looked through it, I noticed there was a little note on the first page: Presented to Prof. J. N. Kapur with compliments. – Maha Nand Sharma. It was actually presented to someone by the author…probably when the book was published, five years before I was born. I find this terribly interesting for some reason.
Also obtained:
Gormenghast and Titus Alone by Mervyn Peake (yes I already own them, but I couldn’t just leave them there)
Selected Poems by Mervyn Peake (omg squee!)
The Female Man by Joanna Russ – I’d been looking for it for ages.
The Crying of Lot 49 by Thomas Pynchon, in horrible condition, but still.
The Holy Thief by Ellis Peters for some casual, fun reading.
Five Red Herrings by Dorothy L. Sayers, because Shloka has instructed me to fall in love with Lord Peter Wimsey
Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis. The man infuriates me, but I just keep reading him. Why is this?
Friday’s Child by Georgette Heyer. But only for my mother. *nods vigorously*. I would never read her! Um.*
The Book of Merlyn by T.H White. Once again, I squee madly. SQUEE!
In other and more important news, it is Isheeta’s birthday. She is wonderful, so everyone must worship her.
* Since the holidays started, most of my reading has been Agatha Christie and Georgette Heyer. Yes, I am publically admitting this. Apparently I have no self respect. You may now mock me.
