Mar. 19th, 2005

primsong: (Default)
Argh!
I finished Alfred Lord Tennyson's "Maud" last night - in spite of the very romantic and beautiful up-and-down emotives it had earlier it was a disappointing and rather abrupt end, like Tennyson had moved on to other projects and just wanted it to be over or something. The protagonist has an altercation with Maud's older brother who disapproved of him, then just runs off - after a bout of depression, he then throws himself into being part of the British navy...end. Blargh! And the rest was so promising! If Tennyson were alive, I'd be writing letters of protest.

Reading a book of collected articles from a roving Canadian newspaper reporter in the 50's now, most of his adventures are in Saskatchewan, a study in small farming town life that reminds me of Garrison Keillor's Lake Wobegone tales, except they're from real life.

Tennyson will get a second chance - still want to read all the way through his Memorium, instead of glancing off of snippets of it. But he better not just jump out of the tale again that way... or I'll... I'll... park him on the shelf and read someone else! For a while.

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