It's been another exceedingly long day, chock full o' mentally- and physically-draining work, so I am satisfied to have even read the brief review of Disgrace that I read this evening. Hopefully, with the approach of the weekend -- and with it, plenty of time to catch up on sleep -- I will be able to plough my way through the handful of longer articles standing between me and the as-yet unwritten chapter. I am just hoping to start writing the chapter soon. It's been a few months since I last wrote anything and, after having read so much criticism, I feel somewhat distanced from the text. Oddly, though, I also feel much more intimate with the text. This is, of course, the result of having read so much criticism. While I often complain about the way all these essays I have been reading overlap and repeat one another, I do feel enriched intellectually. Out of the hodge-podge emerges a clearer sense of what the text presents, but rarely from any one article do I feel especially enlightened. It is the cumulative effect of the reading. The whole, it would seem, is far more than the sum of its parts.
For tomorrow: Read another article.