mtbc | (Reply)

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You're welcome, I'm glad it was worthwhile.

At least, the barcode reader was how I occasionally tried to keep track. (-: But, at least in this instance, taking books by the handful then swiping their barcodes was easier than reading and typing all the titles and authors, or at least less tedious.

I used to buy books as if I were preparing for libraries to not longer be easily evailable to me. For instance, with the religion stuff, I had decent versions of apocrypha and such too. I've cut down my library to a small fraction of what it was, mostly based on, what do I very rarely read and could easily borrow? (and, most recently, what do I want to pay to ship intercontinentally during supply chain disruption?). Still, going into a discount bookstore is dangerous for me, I ought to find which local community library I could then dump things at. Oddly, the pandemic has saved me here: the last cheap bookstore had narrow aisles with plenty of customers, it wasn't worth the risk. Also, that Maccoby Mythmaker book is to be treated with a pinch of salt: it raises some interesting points but may be too eager to draw conclusions, The Historical Jesus and Zealot seem far better to me in that regard.

I was unaware of a Wuthering Heights play! Of the movie adaptations, the 1992 Binoche/Fiennes one's my favorite, it omits less than usual from the later part of the book and, in my view, nicely conveys a heavy dose of psychopathology among the dramatic romance.

A Prayer for Owen Meany was a lucky find in my attempt to remedy my (continuing) ignorance of classic American literature, an attempt to integrate into my adopted country and, indeed, such gave me common ground with one of my neighbors where I last lived there. I find some of the present-day passages less engaging but the bulk of it, recounting the past, includes some really funny parts, including the Christmas pageant. Many books can amuse me but few can make me laugh.