Summer Reading

I never really understood the concept of “summer” or “beach” reading. It's supposed to be lighter, fluffier, take a little less brain power to get through the pages. But, isn't summer when we have more time to read? My schedule, anyway, tends to be a bit looser. I can read on the deck, at the beach, in the airplane, waiting at the airport, on the ferry, in the hammock (if I had one). I can catch up on the stuff I didn't have time to read during the winter when Mondays are for this and Wednesdays are for that and both this and that require extensive driving time with me behind the wheel.

Over the past few years, I have read Grapes of Wrath, Anna Karenina, and The Time Traveler's Wife all over the summer. All meaty and heavy and long. It seems to make more sense to me to read more serious stuff over the summer because when you emerge it's, well, summer. Blue skies shining on me. Nothing but blue skies. I can reflect on the meaning of life and love and literature without slitting my wrists because it is 4 degrees outside and blustery and I have to get in the car and drive somewhere. Instead, Anna throws herself under the train and yes it is tragic and beautiful but man, this peach is delicious and I get to go out to pick up groceries in the Miata with the top down. All in the same afternoon.

I just finished Richard Russo's new book, That Old Cape Magic. I like Russo's writing a lot and this one doesn't disappoint. It tackles all the biggies: love, marriage, childhood, death. Some of the scenes are sidesplittingly funny, yet you feel a bit guilty for laughing because the situations are not that funny to the characters. I love that.

Gotta figure out what's next in the reading queue.