I absolutely hate knowing all about a book or a movie before I go to see it. I much prefer to dive headlong into the world of the novel and find out how things go on there.
I recently read The Good Soldier by Ford Madox Ford the title of which had rattled round in my head for ever. Not sure how I ever missed reading it. Maybe because the author's name was so silly, or else I got him confused with Ford Madox Brown or the whole book confused with Musil's The Man without Qualities. All that aside, I urge you to read it.
It made me think of the world of James Tissot (above). God, what an elegantly tedious evening! And of Henry James (all those rich Yanks loose in Europe).
Even if you have wonderfully pretty clothes, you can be miserable, bored,
and even deceitful.
There is always the possibility of a walk
even when it's raining.
Then you can come home and read a book,
think about squirrels
etc
knit
eat and then hibernate.
