September

I was surprised a couple days ago when the NY Times posted its top 100 books of 2005 online and Murakami's Kafka on the Shore was listed, an uneven novel not nearly as good as his past novels, and even more surprised when I read their top 10 list today to see it in the top ten. Surely, some of the book editors are big Murakami fans and just want to see him on the list, looking past how imperfect this book was.

I've read four of the top 100, and two of the top ten. This makes me feel inadequate in some way. I have read far less this year than I have in years past. Part of this is because I no longer work at a bookstore, but that's a weak excuse also. It is also because I have been going out too much, am too in love with other people to ever want to spend time by myself, or perhaps just too un in love with myself to ever went to be alone.

I think John Haskell's American Purgatorio should have been on the list. His really good book was oddly absent from just about any critical coverage even though it is way better than some of the other books I read that got big handjobs in every publication. Thinking of you, Mr. Kunkel.

September was really good, considering it was one of his dramas, which I normally hate.

I am out of coffee. Sorry.