Finally managed to drag myself through Daniel Defoe’s Moll Flanders. Ugh, what a waste of time. A 17th century Jerry Springer episode. Woman born into crappy circumstances learns that she can get what she wants by using specific parts of her anatomy. Money grubbing and manipulating. But don’t worry, God comes in at the end and our Ricki Lake heroine repents. It was the 17th century afterall. So back to - ugh. Don’t waste your time.

I took an 180 degree turn after Moll Flanders and inhaled The Blind Owl. Inhaled is truly the only word to describe reading this Iranian classic by Sadeq Hedayat. I have absolutely no idea how to describe this novella. The plot was as elusive as the opium smoke quite often referenced in this book. Haunting, Poe-like imagery and Kafka-esque perplexity. I liked the story, but felt confused the entire time I was reading it as to whether I was missing something. After reading some reviews I found on teh interwebs, I believe this was the point.

I was happy to find Hedayat and think I need to expand my reading into more non-Western literature. Any suggestions?