Finals are done. With that, summer begins.
I subscribe to the school of thought that states that spring, fall, and winter all properly belong to school. Summer, however, has a sacredness about it that is profaned by classes. Summer classes are, frankly, an abomination, and though I realise that they are necessary for some, I have only scorn for those who would destroy their summer vacation willingly.
Not that my summer will be completely free, of course. Besides a part-time job and mowing the lawn regularly, I have also a few goals set out for myself. The first is to build up my art skills a bit for a drawing class I’ll take in the fall. Second is to avoiding forgetting everything I’ve learned in Japanese the last two semesters. The third is to tackle a summer reading programme I’ve developed for myself – perhaps “programme” is too ambitious, but anyway it’s a list of what I’d like to read in the coming months. The early version looks like this:
Absolom, Absolom! – William Faulkner (just finished, actually)
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Dog – Dylan Thomas
Rashomon and Seventeen Other Stories – Ryunosuke Akutagawa
Literary Essays of Ezra Pound – Ezra Pound
All Quiet on the Western Front – Erich Maria Remarque
In the past, I’ve failed at summer reading lists, because I always get distracted by other projects or other books. Maybe this year will be different?…