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Gregorius walks the streets of Lisbon at night and follows a man who is limping. The limping man enters a house and turns on lights, and Gregorius notices there are no books, thus he's on the wrong path. He turns to go back to his hotel, but is sideswiped by a rollerblader. His glasses fall to the ground and are destroyed, his face is bleeding. He'd taken the wrong path: the universe doubly enforces that idea.

Professor Gregorius starts his journey by walking off his job at age 57. I retired at 55. Gregorius moved (a train to Lisbon), I moved (in a car from Texas). The difference is that he is going somewhere, he doesn't know why yet, but he had to have a change. I had to LEAVE a place because it wasn't for me. But I so GET this story. Read the first chapter twice, slowly.

Professor Gregorius starts his journey by walking off his job at age 57. I retired at 55. Gregorius moved (a train to Lisbon), I moved (in a car from Texas). The difference is that he is going somewhere, he doesn't know why yet, but he had to have a change. I had to LEAVE a place because it wasn't for me. But I so GET this story. Read the first chapter twice, slowly.

"50*3" Readathon begins! 50 Books By 50 Authors Born in 50 Different Countries! I pulled this off the library shelf at random, having never heard of it and thinking maybe it's by a foreign language author! YES! "Translated From the German by Barbara Harshav" reads a title page. And I SHOULD start my great literary journey on a night train to Lisbon. Oh yes I'm leavin'...

3/4ths through. Early clue, I think, central element. Marlowe says he knows Terry didn't kill his (Terry's) wife, Sylvia. Not because someone else did, but because no one killed Sylvia, Terry and Sylvia had to disappear, Terry (called Marston in another life). So the dead body, supposedly Sylvia, must have came from a 'barrel-window' institute, face beaten beyond recognition. I think. VERY good mystery!

This reads like a Brit-Pop version of the American 'There There.' I may try this later, but this isn't the time for me to read this book. I didn't like 'There There' (it was the cinematic shoot-em-up climax that for me failed: this is fiction and there are solutions other than guns and murder and bloodbaths). Here, I'm looking up terms I don't understand and normally that'd be okay, but sometimes, nope...

Didn't I just read this under the title of "There, There" here in the USA? I'm giving it 25 more pages, but I'm sure it's the same book with different names for people.

A madman politician, lusting for power, utilizes Russian spies and Russian money to infiltrate high political positions so that he can then appoint Russian agents to key positions in American government. This could have been written today instead of 1951. Amazingly relevant.

So difficult to understand the connections. Maybe that's the point, but I'm gettin' a headache.

Half way through. No, I don't want to read the rest, but might as well. Not fun.

Clarke: "We seldom stop to think that we're still creatures of the sea, able to leave it only because from birth to death we wear the water-filled space suits of our skins." Thus, I shall drink more water.

Seems very political...."...life seems little more than an agony except for....ecstatic moments ...drinking blood." This could be a tough read, I'm going to set it aside until after the election and then just enjoy it.

I've read Jackson's famous short, "The Lottery" and have questioned if that short is a fluke, The subtitle of this collection is "The Adventures of James Harris" and it seems Harris appears in the 2nd story as a "Daemon Lover". Is there an overall theme/story here? I'll read on.

Okay, VERY IMPORTANT STUFF!!! EMERGENCY READING>>List 1) Knickers, Bloke, Lads, Shagging, Bum. List 2) Trailer, Truck, Ranch, Cops, Closet. Can you tell the list belonging to American Porn vs. British Porn?

This one raises all kinds of issues! Get this:
DUKE: I never heard the absent duke much detected for women-he was not inclined that way.
LUCIO: O, sir, you are deceived.
DUKE: 'Tis not possible.
It's the 'tis not possible' declaration that opens the door to all kinds of speculation. I don't think Shakes is going to reveal all: Shakes is just pointing out that no one knows all there is to know about anyone.

When Mistress Overdone (who runs a 'bawdy' house) points out that a certain client had promised to marry a certain employee with child, her message couldn't not be more prescient to today's world: some men's attitudes toward women's bodies is shockingly repugnant. We see it daily in government offices in America. Disgusting.

I'm looking now at a stunning photo of President Obama and First Lady Michele, along with President George . Bush and First Lady Laura, attending the 10th anniversay of 9/11, all with solemn faces and with dignity. Compare that with today's photo of Trump's fist pump action at the 17th anniversary. We in America need a President right now.

Now, we have three Don Quixote's: Cervantes (whose voice is clear), the first Quixote from Book 1, then a 2nd, fake, Quixote in Book 2 as someone has written what we would now call "fan fiction" of Book 1. Oddly, it works, it is never misleading or confusing, Cervantes stuns. I'm also referencing a newer translation from 2003 as the footnotes are more extensive. How could I have NOT read this book already?

Parson Evans pronounces the letter 'b' as 'p' and vice versa. Instead of brain, he says prain, which isn't funny. But, when he says, "I pray you remember", he suddenly remembers to say 'pray' and not 'bray.' Now, "I bray you remember" would have been funny. Why didn't Shakespeare use bray, as this is a comedy? Any Shakespeare scholars out there?

'lingua franca'-a mixture of various Christian tongues and of words chiefly Italian and Spanish with a sprinkling of Portuguese. I had no idea about this (early 1600s) but what if it had become the predominate language of the world? I definitely want to understand more about world linguistics.

Now I know where Trump's campaign speeches came from when Quixote thinks, madly, "...the world needed his immediate presence, so many were the grievances he intended to rectify, the harms he meant to redress, the abuses he would reform...." We've always know Quixote was mad, and now, without a doubt, we know Trump thinks the same way as Quixote. But Quixote poses no danger to the entire world, at least.

Lovely: Pistol says, "He hath studied her well, and translated her will...out of honesty into English." Hilarious with Falstaff saying: "Page's wife...examined my parts with most judicious oellades: sometimes the beam of her view gilded my foot..sometimes my portly belly." One might think Trump is a direct decendent of Falstaff.

Okay, the reason I hate this book is that NO WOMAN ON EARTH is this stupid and here, there are 3 of them who have not a single bright thought. Dumb as dirt.
Shame on you, Levin.

What? What ho? This is supposed to be a classic? The writing is juvenile and yea I know what's going on.

Evans, the parson, says, "I am of the church, and will be glad to do my benevolence."
Shallow, a court justice, replies, "The Council shall here it! it is a riot!
Church VS. State, how prescient is that?

Thankfully, the author goes to GREAT extent to explain why there was a need for a lined bucket for people living in the trees. Otherwise, I'd never guessed why there was this need.

Ahem....I finished but at about page 300 this book turned stupid, I think. Or was it just me?

The baby Charles "will grow into a towering, straight-grainded thing whose nuts are so hard you have to smash them with a hammer." Question: Is the author saying Charles will be straight?

A group of journalist work on a scoop: "Our subject is not necessarily a big fellow in his own right but we have reason to believe he's the payoff man between an industrial syndicate (NRA?) and a political machine (Party?Country?Mob?), the one man who really knows the entire setup." Is this Mueller's Manafort? Wait, I'm in bed reading fiction from 1946. I think.

"Have pity on me." "No, you filthy brute." I crept as far as the window and there in the room, chained to a bed like Prometheus to his rock, receiving the blows that Maurice rained upon him with a whip which was in fact studded with nails, I saw, with blood already flowing from him..." Just think, about a hundred years ago Proust and friends were hundreds of shades of grey past today it seems.