Maybe it's genetic, or maybe old habits just die hard. All I know is, when the holidays are over, I want to hibernate. Now, I no longer live in a place where it's really cold enough to hibernate (it was about 50 degrees today, although temps are supposed to get down into the teens by the end of the week), but the urge still remains. As long as the sun keeps setting early, I feel like I need to be hunkering down indoors with a hot beverage and some kind of project to keep me occupied and out of trouble.
For the past few years, I've been using this cozy time of year to tackle some books that, for whatever reason, I've never gotten around to reading. I have a B.A. in English, and have studied a fairly diverse variety of novels both in school and out, but there are plenty of gaps in my literary education. So I've been using these winter months to fill in those gaps.
This winter's selection is Middlemarch, a novel that gets referenced in literary criticism possibly more than any other in the English language. Probably the reason no one ever assigned this to me in college was because it's 799 freakin' pages long and would have hogged most of a whole semester. Also, the typeface on this sucker is about eight point, so...I might need winter to last a little longer this year. I'll be starting this tonight.