I remember attempting, by the current count of my failures, Thomas Mann’s Joseph and His Brothers.  Four times.  Four times, and four times a-failin’.  My lack of interest in ancient Egyptian history is so strong that I find anything set during that time period extremely difficult to read as my eyes slide off the page.  How I ever managed to finish Norman Mailer’s Ancient Evenings I will never understand (the cover of the copy I owned compared it favourably to Gravity’s Rainbow.  In no way is this comparison appropriate, and is in fact extremely unkind to Thomas Pynchon).

-24 May 2017

This post is part of the I Remember series.