I haven’t been so good at keeping up the reading notes lately, though the books have certainly been there. Savoured more Jhumpa Lahiri (The Namesake was a more fluent read than the jerkier The Lowland, but I’m beginning to spot her personal tropes; I called Ashoke’s death once the Christmas cards appeared). Reached the finale of epic fanfiction entry Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality (don’t laugh at me, it’s brilliant, and very funny, though I skipped some of the more tedious wargames) and sped through Longbourn by Jo Baker – also essentially fanfiction, also superb. Nicked Christopher Isherwood’s A Single Man off a friend’s shelf, as a light read: it was more knowingly self-deprecatory than my memories of the film adaptation suggested, and felt rather less like someone else’s painfully “high-minded pornography” (which is not in itself problematic, I feel, it just, erm, didn’t really cater to me). Now taking a saunter with Carson McCullers. So there you go. The books.

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